JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Alignment of Stars
by Invincible East
Summary: Having stepped onto the plane that will fly him back to his childhood home of California, Joshua Jiu seeks to escape his past ties in Hong Kong with his mother in order to begin a new life. What he doesn't know is that the rest of his high school career in America is not as quiet as he had hoped it to be. An original JoJo's Bizzare Adventure story, filled with OCs.
1. Crusaders

**Disclaimer: The following chapter, and very likely the ones that come after, may or may not contain offensive elements in regards to race, gender, religion, or any other unspecified topics. Please keep in mind that this story is purely for fun and entertainment. Feel free to stop reading and disapprovingly dismiss this fanfic from your life if you find anything triggering, because otherwise I will not change anything in the story.**

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, please return to your seats and buckle up your seat belts. We will be experiencing a wave of turbulence shortly. Thank you for your cooperation, and have a nice flight."

Despite the flight attendant's professionally amicable announcement, however monotone it sounded, someone got up and went to use the bathroom anyways. Anas closed his laptop and sighed. Typical Americans. They couldn't even wait five minutes for the turbulence to end.

 _Consider yourself lucky._ He stood up a little so that he could see the faces of his comrades. Mohammad, seated two rows ahead of him, nodded back. Sadiq and Shamir too stated their readiness. Ameen, the awkward youth he is, fumbled for the bag lent from the Organization, but otherwise he was green to go. It was a good thing that the Asian woman next to him was asleep.

"All right," he whispered, "the time has come, brothers."

Ameen slid the bag, a duffel bag, to be precise, over to Mohammad's aisle. He caught it with a steady hand and reached his large, hairy hand in for its contents. Inside, he was able to find a fully armed Kalashnikov, more widely known to the Americans here as an AK-47, and passed it to Sadiq. _Money well spent,_ Anas thought. That little bag cost them a fortune, but the fact that it was actually an unlimited void made for storage made going through the airport security much easier than anyone of their profession could ever ask for.

Mohammad equipped himself with another of the rifle and passed Shamir an American M16, foraged from the corpse of a soldier back home. Ameen, having recently just joined the cause, received a Heckler & Koch HK45. Though they have a third Kalashnikov ready to be used, and the fact that it's generally operable by just anyone, Ameen is too much of a greenhorn to handle its recoils. A pistol for now would do, but Anas doubt that he would get the chance to shoot any Americans.

He didn't need a gun for himself.

Mohammad, the most passionate brother in arms of the group, had the honor of initiating the first step of their battle.

"All right you American capitalists! This is a takeover!"

When the entire economy class responded to their hijack with nothing but a few yawns, quiet murmurs, and several looks of disapproval, Anas got up and scanned around, his thick eyebrows raised. Many of the passengers were asleep, yes, but that doesn't mean _this_ should be their reception. They are terrorists, for Allah's sake. Aren't they feared among Americans?

"Mohammad, brother," he suggested, "try shouting louder."

He did, and only then two or three more passengers were aroused, looking up at them with blank expressions. One of them even went back to sleep after surveying their faces.

"Hey, you guys shooting a movie?" A voice said, seated in front of Mohammad. "I thought America's pretty sensitive about this type of stuff?"

 _Oh no._

To his relief, Mohammad did not explode in vehement anger. They found the source of the voice to be just a kid, an Asian teenager, who sat next to what appeared to be his mother by the window.

"You think you're pretty funny, huh?" Mohammad said, his accent permeating through his English, and his Kalashinikov pointed at him. "Tell you what, how about you be the first to witness our resolve? Allah shall be the judge."

A little too fast for victims, and a teenager at that, but it couldn't be helped. Anas just hoped Mohammad's hatred for the West, however justified, wouldn't cloud his judgment later.

"Oh, I'm an extra now? Edit this line out later, if you can. Okay." The kid coughed. "'Seriously? An airplane hijack? Could you get any more stereotypical than that? You're not helping the outlook on your faith, anyhow. All you are getting from this is to reinforce your labels.' Yeah, so not my best acting, but that's as natural as I could go. Nice AK, by the way. Whoever designed the prop needs some credit."

He was shown that it was not a prop when Mohammad fired a quick and controlled burst to the ceiling. Anas muttered a curse in Arabic, but thankfully it did not disrupt the plane, at first glance. Only the minor shaking of the turbulence kept them occupied. By then people awoke from the shot, and, finally, praise Allah, they gasped.

"You, attendant" Anas pointed at the one unwittingly passing by. "Turn on all the lights. I want them to witness their judgment."

She, at gunpoint, moved to a small room down the aisle and a few seconds later the dim economy class was alight with bright fluorescent lights.

And then, it was at this moment, Anas knew he screwed up.

"C-Chinese?" Ameen looked around, wide-eyed. "Why are they all Chinese?"

"Hey, don't just assume we're all Chinese." the kid from earlier spoke. "There's Hong Kongers, Koreans, Vietnamese, Thailanders, Malaysians, and Singaporeans on this plane. Not every Asian person you see is Chinese."

"Anas?" Mohammad shot a look of desperation at him. "Brother?"

This is impossible. Just how did this happen?

"Where are the Americans?" he demanded. "Are there any Americans on this plane?"

Only three or four hands were raised, after the longest minute of their lives.

"This is Hong Kong Airlines, dumbass," the kid said. "Watch which plane you step into next time."

"Hong Kong..." Ameen gulped.

"Airlines." Sadiq followed in his thick and heavy English.

So much for Allah's judgment.

"So...judging by your looks, I'm assuming this isn't a movie shoot?"

"You! You shut up!" Mohammad pulled the trigger. Anas shuts his eyes. They might have been able to get away if there was no bloodshed, but, well, Mohammad was the most devoted, all right. Now that their plans were flushed down the toilet the moment they stepped on this plane, the best course of action right now is to improvise. They'd still have to find the captain to deviate the destination, though.

He was only halfway walking towards the flight attendant to politely ask her for bringing him to the pilot room when he realized he didn't hear the gory splatter of the kid's brain. Anas turned around and saw what happened.

From Mohammad, Sadiq, Shamir, and Ameen, and might as well everyone else in the plane's point of view, the 7.62x39mm round appeared to be hovering midair, only several centimeters away from entering the Asian kid's forehead.

From Anas' point of view, there was a black, gauntleted hand, holding the bullet between its thumb and index finger.

"T-This kid..." Mohammad backed away. At least he knew what was going on here. "Anas..."

"I know." He slicked back his hair and sighed heavily. Just he thought the day couldn't get any worse, they managed to provoke a Stand user. "Let me take care of this one, brother."

The kid narrowed his eyes as Anas approached him. The black, plated hand dropped the bullet, causing an adequate clink on the floor.

"So this is a real hijack."

"It was, but now it's ruined. Do you know how long we have planned this?"

"Hey, what's going on out there?" The guy who went to use the bathroom pounded on the door. Shamir had blocked it with several piles of suitcases.

"Ten years. For ten years we waited for this chance. For ten years we endured while our family and friends were bombed by American drones. Ten years." He took a deep breath. "Do you think we are going to stop just because of one mishap? Mohammad shot you. You were supposed to die. I am simply here to make sure you stay that way."

He exhaled. A sandy colored vapor flowed out of his nostrils, gathering into a swirling vortex on the airplane aisle. It grew bigger and bigger, spinning and spinning until a brawny, djinn of gold spun into shape, hovering over the gathered whirlwind as its upper torso. A crimson turban it wore, its pupil-less eyes hid beneath the shade it offered.

"I figured there would be Stand users in our way, but I did not expect my first encounter here to be in the form of a millennial brat." Anas stepped back. "Rip him apart, Darude."

 _ **"Allah!"**_

The golden djinn stretched back its arm and delivered a rushing corkscrew. With the several hundreds of people breathing and exhaling in the economy class they were in, Darude was able to gain a tremendous boost in power, being able to tear flesh with just a blow of its winds. A punch in this kid would be overkill.

 _Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek_

...but he isn't just any kid, so it seemed.

"Tch."

A humanoid figure, clad in black plate, effortlessly blocked Darude's attack with its arm, the razor sharp winds still scratching its metallic surface. Its helmeted head crowned two ear-shaped figures off at the sides, and a thin slit was reserved for the eyes, if it had any beneath its expressionless helm. A knight from the Middle Ages, here out of all places.

Anas leered at it. "Not bad, you're the first to stop a Darude this strong."

The kid glared at him. Darude in response narrowed its eyes towards the knight's sealed visor.

 _ **"Allah!"**_ It pulled back its arm and jabbed several times with its whirling fists. The knight sluggishly moved in response, taking the hits.

"I see," Anas observed, letting his djinn to feel around the threat it posed. "So your Stand is one of those short range types with heavy emphasis on power." Taking advantage of the momentum, Darude, with graceful agility, leaned forward and sent a well-aimed punch behind the knight's shoulder, seeking to crush its user. It managed to deflect it at the last second.

"And not so much speed, by the looks of it." Darude's arm disappeared into a gaseous state and reformed back to its body, assuming a fighting stance. "Well then, that armor must be its selling point. It could withstand a blow from a Darude produced by some two hundred people. Not bad. Not bad, I must say."

The golden djinn spun several times in place, its winds howling.

 _ **"Allah."**_ It growled.

"But how many hits can it take, before it shatters to pieces?"

 _ **"ALLALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALLALALALALALALALALALALALA!"**_

Faster than the wind, the djinn unleashed an immeasurable barrage of jabs, its fists as the embodiment of a desert's tempest. Like a sandstorm bent on drowning its victims, the golden djinn sought to destroy the Middle Ages knight with its unrivaled fury and unparalleled rage.

As his Stand had no choice but to take the hits, the kid's face displayed signs of pain. Cracks steadily formed as the knight endured each of Darude's attacks, forced to defend with its arms crossed its chest.

"Not even the fastest machine gun could outpace Darude," Anas gloated as he stood back and watched, "It thrives on the carbon dioxide living things emit, becoming stronger each time they breathe. You think you could stand a chance when there's this many people on the plane? It's only going to grow bigger and bigger when I arrive at the Times Square with my brothers—"

His monologue was rudely interrupted when the knight suddenly ducked in time and lurched forward for a solid punch.

 _ **"Deus!"**_

Anas quickly recalled back Darude to defend him, and while its physical form is suitably sturdy, it felt the strike. The blow was enough to cause some of its winds smashed out from its back.

"Times Square, is it?" The kid smirked rather obnoxiously. "Thanks for telling me your plan."

Anas grimaced, but he quickly recomposed himself and scoffed back, dismissing the his lucky hit. It's nothing. He still has the momentum.

"That's because you wouldn't live to speak of it." He commanded the djinn to rush forward for a counterattack. With furious speed it delivered a cracking blow to the knight's abdomen. A small crater was carved in, and blood dripped from the kid's mouth. Before it could fight back, Darude gifted it an uppercut to its plated face and bestowed several heavy jabs across its body, making fissures on its body wherever it went.

"Not so smug now, are you, China boy?" Anas, embracing the thrill of the fight, watched the beatdown with satisfaction. "Mohammad," he called, "get to the flight captain and proceed with the original plan. We will _make_ this plane fly to New York."

When he turned back around, however, the kid seemed different from before. He wasn't sure what, but something's off about him.

"You, what did you just call me?"

Darude stopped its relentless assault. "China boy? What, like that is not the truth. All of you Asians look the same."

He stood up. "Take that back."

"Or what? Your Stand is pathetic. All it has is a thick skull, just like you and your ching chong China men."

"Hey, Anas, that's going a bit too far..." Ameen sheepishly commented from afar.

"You shut up. Go with Mohammad. I'll handle this kid." He faced the Stand user. "Oh, what you gonna do? You gonna kung fu kick my ass? Don't make me laugh. Go back to your own country, we don't need any more of your kind infesting other places."

It may be just his imagination, but the knight, with a dark glistening beneath the small crack in its visor, seemed to be staring at him with a certain fierceness he can't just place.

 _" **Deus!**_ **"** It struck without any warning.

 _" **Allah!"**_ Darude was able to deflect it just in time. But barely.

"...What?"

Did he see that right? How was it able to strike so fast, almost to the point of being unseen, blurred by motion?

 _" **Deus!"**_ It went again, evidently faster this time.

 **"Allah!"** Darude caught its fist with both of its hands.

 _ **"DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS—"**_

 _ **"ALLALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALALA—"**_

No, something is wrong. Something is definitely wrong here. Why is it so fast? _How_ is it so fast? That Stand is punching almost as fast as Darude...no, _just_ as fast.

 _ **"Deus!"**_

The knight found an opening between the djinn's counters and punched just above its shoulder, aiming smash Anas in the face. By doing that, it also left an opening of its own.

 ** _"Allah!"_ ** With the knight out of the range, the kid is defenseless, and Darude took the opportunity to strike, seeking to drill a hole into his stomach with its swirling fists.

Time seemed to have slow down as the Stands went past each other, and for a brief moment, Anas saw that the knight's arm was getting grazed by Darude's own arm. A subtle blue ripple rebounded across its plated arm each time it was scratched by the razor-sharp winds, and the blue markings on its arm glowed faintly in response.

 _I see..._

He felt the solid gauntleted hand disfiguring his nose as the knight landed its fist first. Darude, lashed by the sudden loss of its user's concentration, missed its attack by inches. The dark knight faced its user, its hulking figure towering over his measly 5'9 height.

 **" _DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS DEUS!_ DEUS VULT!"**

He was sent flying in intense pain, face beaten beyond recognition. Just so as he landed on the lap of an of a confused and screaming Asian woman, Anas closed his eyes and prayed fervently to Allah that this was all just a terrible, terrible dream.

"I'm from Hong Kong, damn it." The kid sputtered as he wiped the blood off his mouth, watching Darude dissipate and its sandy colored form dispersed into the air conditioning vents.

* * *

"Oh, we're here already?" His mother lazily stretched and yawned as the Boeing skidded to a halt on the runway. He will never get used to the way his ears pop during landings, will he?

"Yeah, we're here."

"Hey Joshua, your mother just had a weird dream." She spoke to him in Cantonese. "Guess what happened?"

He sighed. "What?"

"I don't quite remember, but there were gunshots and men screaming. It was really strange."

"Some dream it was. You sure it wasn't a nightmare?"

"Maybe it was. I'm probably just too tired." His mother leaned up. "What's with all the commotion? Did something happen while I was asleep?"

Joshua sank to his seat and glanced at the unconscious Arabic men who lay senseless on the row of seats next to him.

"Just a turbulence."


	2. An Acquaintance

Pudong International Airport. Not the quietest and the most comfortable place to rest, after having narrowly avoided an airplane hijack. Josh leaned back on the hard, hole-filled seats. He and his mother would have been on their way to California right now, if it weren't for those damned terrorists. The captain had to land in Shanghai and sort this mess out before anyone could transfer onto a new flight. The world went to hell the moment he stepped out of Hong Kong.

A murmur hustled through the crowd, and Josh heard cameras shutters clicking. He opened one eye and saw the terrorists, all five of them, handcuffed and escorted out from the jet bridge by a group of police officers and FBI agents. The fanatics were miserable. Each and every one of them looked downcast, face swollen and purple with huge chunks of fresh bruises. It's very likely that their broken jaws, noses, are chins are fractured beyond repair.

 _They were the ones who started this_ , Josh rested his hands behind his head. _You only acted in the self-defense._ Who knows what might have happened, if the terrorists got their way?

It was a good thing that he kept his eye on the most dangerous one among the bunch. The one who looked the most normal, wearing the blue shirt and the khakis. Rest assured, he is the biggest threat, the one with special powers, just like him. As the crowd pointed and gawked at real, live, and captured terrorists, Josh noticed that the one he had his eye on wore a wicked smirk and puffed up his chest for a deep inhale.

He immediately stood up. Not again. This guy might have the advantage this time, with all the open spaces…

The terrorist then convulsed violently. His eyes went white and he fell to the floor completely limp. Josh blinked. He saw that a young, Caucasian girl stood behind the terrorist, and she held a Taser in her hand, sparks burning.

"Nothing to see here, folks." The FBI agent beside her picked up the unconscious terrorist and propped him against his shoulders. "Sit tight, and we'll get you all on a transfer flight within the next few hours."

Some of the seated crowd started to groan. Josh could sympathize. While not exactly in a hurry to move back to his childhood home, anything beats having to sit around a Chinese airport doing nothing. As he slowly sat back down, he now kept his attention on that girl. How did she know that he was going to summon his tornado? The FBI don't just tase people out of the blue, do they?

She saw him, and after a moment of meeting his glance, stopped what she was doing. The girl tapped the agent who carried the terrorist and said something to him, who proceeded to leave what he carried to another officer. The two of them walked towards Josh. _Great,_ he thought. Now they are going to question him and his mother, who somehow still had the nerve to sleep.

"Joshua Jiu," the girl said as she approached him. "That's you, right?"

Josh nodded at her statement of a question. Westerners are not an uncommon sight back in Hong Kong, so he was used to her delicate looking locks of gold and her jade eyes.

"Were you the one who dealt with the terrorists?"

"Yes."

"Oh man, we were trying to get these guys for months." The FBI agent beside her said. "We had no solid evidence of their activities, but my gut kept on telling me that they were up to no good. And guess what? My intuition was right all along. They happened to hijack the wrong plane which I happened to be on!"

Josh frowned. "You were on the plane?"

"Yeah. I was the guy in the bathroom."

"Oh."

"Nice work on subduing those guys, by the way." He continued. "Not many could find themselves staring down at a terrorist who held real, live ammunitions."

"How did they pass the airport security, anyway?" Josh asked out of curiosity. "I'd imagine rifles like those would get detected in a heartbeat."

"Good question." The girl said. "But leave the investigating to us. Let me ask you something, Mr. Jiu. Why did you fight back?"

"Excuse me?"

"You realize that, as 'noble' as it is to play the hero, you are risking the lives of everyone on the plane by confronting them, face to face?"

Josh raised an eyebrow. "How is this even a question? They were trying to hijack it, for god's sake. Also, self-defense is a thing, Miss FBI."

"…I'm just kidding. You really don't appreciate jokes, do you?"

"That didn't sound like a joke." She had a good point, though. The terrorists might have taken hostages if they were not too fixated on watching him and the other one fight. Depending on how it went, innocents would have been shot.

"Anyway, you might want to know this," he told them, trying to not think of the alternative results. What has happened, happened. "One of them announced to me that they were originally going for Times Square."

"New York?" The girl narrowed her eyes, then turned around and studied the terrorists thoughtfully. "And they told you because…"

Because he was about to kill him with his wind djinn and wanted to do the bad guy speech? There are some things in life you just can't tell, and having the ability to see strange manifestations, as well as having one of your own, is one example.

"Oh you are not suspecting him, are you, Alicia?" The agent said. "He saved everyone on the plane!"

"True, I suppose." The girl she studied him with an analytical gaze, and Josh could feel she might even know what he's thinking. "You are a Stand user, are you not?"

"…Stand user?" The terrorist did say the same thing, calling his djinn and his knight as 'Stands'. But he thought it was just a term the guy came up on his own, presumably originated from Arabic.

"It's fine. We are not your enemy."

To his amazement, which he only dared to display inside of him, a cable of pure, glaring white that stood out like a foreigner in China enveloped around the girl's body and wrapped itself from her arm to shoulder. At its end was a USB head, and for a second Josh thought the whole thing was just a cord, were it not for the strange way it appeared.

"We are Stand users as well." The FBI agent said. The girl nodded and retracted the cable, which promptly disappeared and faded away inside of her.

Josh did not know what to make of this. But he learned to not give trust so easily to strangers as a lesson many years ago. They may be onto some sort of conspiracy here. It's better to just play safe. "Stand user? I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Hey, you don't need to play dumb around us. We knew at least one of the terrorists has a Stand, so in order to have defeated them, you must have one of your own."

When he did not reply and faked them a confused expression, the girl sighed. "Here, how about this. You lived in California as a kid, right? In Westingdale?"

"How…do you know about that?"

"I was the girl whose father was a policeman. Well, I think that's what you all thought, anyway."

"Police…?" Josh tried to think back, to relieve the hazy memories of his first seven years of his life living in America. He lived in the city of Westingdale, and he remembers that he hung around with a small circle of friends in kindergarten. One of them was particularly wary of a certain peer, now that he thought about it. "Oh. You were that scary girl."

For some reason the FBI agent broke off into a huge laughter. He laughed so much hard he doubled over and began coughing. If people weren't looking at him before, with them seemly questioning him, now they are. They went back to what they were doing when the girl flashed them a grim expression.

"Scary, huh." She said when she turned back to him, not realizing the irony. "Well, at least you are honest."

"Everyone was scared to mess around with you because they thought your father would go and arrest them."

"No wonder they were all nice to me."

"Hey, if anyone bullied my daughter, I would have gone and asked them questions," the FBI agent spoke as he wiped a tear from his eye. "But now I know why she has never been bullied."

"Because she's so scary?" Josh stated. The agent went back to laughing again and had to sit down on a nearby seat to calm himself.

"…I assure you I have no ill intentions," the girl spoke and held out her hand. "Alicia McCall, if you still remember that name."

He took it. "Yeah, I think I do."

"Great. Now, as your former classmate, I will ask you again: are you a Stand user?"

Josh pursed his lips. He could do this all day, but is it really wise to argue with an FBI agent, outside of Hong Kong? If he still had the gang as support, sure, but now he's on his own. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to establish some connection.

"…I didn't know they were called Stands." He admitted a little sheepishly.

"They appear as if they are standing right behind you when you summon them." Alicia crossed her arms. "For the humanoid ones, anyway. Someone then got the idea to call them Stands. As you can see, mine will never live up to its name."

"Do I need to show you mine?"

"No, long as you admit it, that's fine. We, as the FBI, just had to make sure you are not an enemy."

"Is the FBI full of Stand users, then?" The American movies he saw sure gave him a different impression.

"Only a small division of us are, and even then, only the top brass knows of our existence. Normal people don't know about Stands, and we'd like to keep it that way."

"Why are you telling me this?" Josh asked. "Isn't this confidential information?"

She gave him a smile, though it was on the professional side. "Because we could always use some extra hands."

"Am I compelled to agree?"

"No, but if you don't, you can't tell anyone else about this, or else, well, ever watched Hollywood films?"

"I've seen my share."

"Not all of the FBI's ways of finding you are exaggerated, let's just say that."

"Hey," her father said, "you should stop scaring him. Isn't he your friend?"

"I'm giving him a warning _because_ of our former acquaintanceship," she replied. "If it was anyone else they would have been dragged away without a word."

Josh looked at his mother. Is it right for him to join the FBI, after a life he had? "You know, I—"

"Used to be involved with the Triads in Hong Kong?" Alicia finished for him. "Or at least, your father did. Background checks are mandatory before we recruit anyone."

"…So despite all that, you still want me to join?"

"Say what you what, but I'm the type to believe in change."

Josh looked at her father, who gave him a hearty smile and nodded at him. He reminded him of a kid who had so much fun they never fully became adults. Clearly his daughter did not inherit that trait from him.

"I'll…decline." He replied with a degree of hesitance. "For now, at least. My mom wouldn't let me do anything until I finish high school."

"That's acceptable," Alicia said. "The offer still stands, if you ever change your mind. Are you going back to Westingdale, by the way?"

"Yeah. A friend of my mom's found an apartment for us to move in."

"If you want a recommendation, go to Thomas Edison High. I'm a junior there, and it's not a bad school with the kind of education system we have."

"Thanks. I'll consider that."

"If that's all, then later. We have a plenty of work to do." She turned around, and her dad stood up.

"You are not going to question me?"

Alicia stopped and exchanged glances with her father. "Well, we were thinking to let you off the hook, considering what you've done, but since you've offered, rules are rules."

Josh sighed. That'll teach him to speak the first thing on his mind. Oh well, it's better than sitting around doing nothing for the next few hours.

* * *

Stand name: Cydonia

User: Joshua Jiu

Appearance: A knight in shining jet-black armor with blue markings over its body, it wears a helmet that has what appears to be sharp cat ears protruding from the sides. I'm not too into European history, but did the knights from the Crusades really wear helmets like that?

Destructive Power: **A**

Speed: **C**

Range: **C**

Durability: **A**

Precision: **C**

Developmental Potential: **C**

Abilities:

 _Momentum Absorption_ \- The Stand Cydonia is able to "absorb" the force of any external impact to its armor and store them as potential energy, waiting to be used. It could use the stolen force to empower its next swing, or distribute them equally throughout its arms to unleash a barrage of punches with the same speed its opponent struck with.

 _Substantial Plates_ \- Cydonia is unique in that the damages it receive don't transfer to its user, despite being a close ranged Stand. Josh will only get hurt if any attack goes through its armor and hit the insides, which is already stronger than solid steel.

 _Bulwark_ \- Josh could also make his Stand to surround him as if it's a real set of armor, covering his body from head to toe. And much like a real set, his physical movement becomes very limited. He also loses the ability to absorb momentum so long as he is encased inside, in exchange for its durable protection.

Notes: Overall superior in terms of pure combat abilities, Cydonia suits Josh well when it comes to raw fighting. But for someone so passionate and fond of East Asian cultures, particularly the Chinese, I find it rather interesting and mildly ironic for him to have a European knight as his Stand. During the rare times when he spoke of his past, Josh told me that his father, a Triad gangster, used to tell him of a story of a gallant knight named Cydonia as a child. He was the epitome of the classic portrayal of heroes: brave, just, and honorable. Josh said his Stand is named after him as a tribute to his father.

Fun fact: I am the only one who he had ever told his story of his Stand's name that was based off from a story...to. Wow, I just realized how that sounded.


	3. End of an Interrogation

"...So I noticed him looking around and had a nasty smile on his face. I thought he was going to summon his...what do you call it again? A Stand. Yeah, his Stand."

"And that's where I came in," Alicia said. Josh, as he insisted her to call him, nodded. "It was really easy to read him."

"Yeah, so that's my story." Josh stood up. "May I leave now?"

She looked at her father, who nodded at her, then at the security guy who guarded the room. "Yeah," he said, "but the plane's not gonna leave until like half an hour later. Stay here with us, Alicia needs more friends outside of school. She gets pretty lonely, even if she doesn't admit it."

"Dad."

"It's fine," Josh stated politely, seemingly eager to get out of the makeshift interrogation room. "My mom must be freaking out by now."

"Go on," Alicia waved. "I have a lot of work to do. It's going to be tough cracking down the terrorist's computer."

He nodded, and the security led him out of the room, where he was immediately swarmed by an infestation of journalists and reporters. The security immediately slipped back in and slammed the door close as Josh gave them a last, desperate glance.

"Oof," her father made a pained expression. "I warned him."

"Not in the most persuasive way. I mean, really? You didn't need to mention me in there."

"He seems like a nice guy."

Alicia ignored him and put on her work gloves as she unzipped the terrorist's personal laptop from a sealed plastic bag, using it as a cushion on the desk. "He never was the talkative kind, from what I remember, but it's almost absurd that he didn't change at all."

"I thought you liked quiet guys?" Her father said. "I remember your room was full of posters in middle school. What happened to all those Korean boys you adored, with those silky cuts that covered their faces?"

The comment earned a manual palm to her face. She lifted a finger to check out the security's reaction. Expressionless, as usual. The same Japanese guy that followed her and her Dad wherever they were stationed. It can't be a coincidence, right? They found him happened to be working part-time here when the plane landed.

"Please stop talking." She said dismissively. "I need to concentrate."

She manifested her Stand, a thin, silver USB cord that wrapped around her hand, and it connected itself on the laptop's USB port. The password on the administrator login screen typed itself right away, and she was through.

"Good thing he didn't program his computer to self-destruct all of its files. Probably didn't think he would get busted this early on."

"You got in pretty easy," her father commented, leaning on her chair. "Why did you lie to Josh?"

"I already showed my Stand to him. That's the most I could take on exhibiting today." One simply does not show their Stand to others, even if they have one themselves. The brash shamelessness is equivalent to publicly displaying one's anus on the streets. She got the feeling that if her father possessed a different Stand, he would be showing it off all day. Alicia inwardly muttered a quick thanks to heaven that it didn't turn out to be that way.

* * *

Stand name: Spacebound

User: Unknown (presumably a member of the enigmatic 'Organization' Alicia told me)

Appearance: It's...just a black duffel bag. It has no other distinguishable traits. I have to say, this is the first Stand I've seen that is not unique in appearance in one way or another.

Destructive Power: **N/A**

Speed: **N/A**

Range: **A**

Durability: **D**

Precision: **N/A**

Developmental Potential: **E**

Abilities:

 _Dimensional Storage_ \- Spacebound, it is known, is a bag that contains a "mini-hyperspace wormhole". Connected directly to the bag, this hole could act as an unlimited storage for anything you put in. The bag's physical properties will not change on the outside, retaining its original shape and weight, which is pretty light.

Notes: I heard Alicia found this Stand while searching through the plane that appeared on the news, the same Josh was on when he first came out of Hong Kong. It seemed to give the explanation as to how the hijackers managed to smuggle their guns through the airport security. As to its user, no one has a clue on who they are. Since its operational range has an **"A"** ranking, it is very possible that they could be anywhere in the state, or even the country for that matter. Will they ever come back to retrieve it?


	4. Westingdale

Josh thought he would not recognize Westingdale again during the eleven years he was away. After all, most of his memories were pretty hazy. So it caught him by surprise that the new street he moved to looked almost identical to the one he lived in Hong Kong. The Chinese section of the city, too small to be called a Chinatown and too large to be called a neighborhood, dates back to the time of the Californian Gold Rush. The immigrants settled down in this area of the would-be city when the craze was over. When he saw street vendors, bored looking teenagers handing out flyers, and people spitting right on the sidewalks, Josh thought he and his mother never left Hong Kong's borders. The only things missing were the neon lights and the disgruntled street urchins. Culture shock may very well be just a myth here.

A week after finishing moving in with his mother in their small fifth-floor apartment, Josh decided to check out the high school his kindergarten acquaintance Alicia McCall mentioned. But it's not like there were other options. Thomas A. Edison High School of Westingdale, or just Edison High as he heard the locals call it, is the only high school remotely close to his area. The other "zoned" choice for him would be a place called Telsa Tech, but that's literally right down the Death Valley.

The students of Edison High, as he observed just outside of the stairs that lead to the main entrance, appear to be the epitome of the famous metaphor for America being a melting pot. People hailing from numerous cultures attended the school, ranging from Canadians of local upbringing to the indigenous Teru tribe that occupied the area of Westingdale since before the westward expansion. It was his first time seeing such diversity. Hong Kong is nothing but a shanty little town for a homogenous population in comparison.

"I see you are checking out our school," he heard a voice beside him, familiar as it is. "Not a bad place, is it?"

Alicia McCall. She wore a different outfit from the police uniform the other day, with the dark yellow jacket and the blue jeans.

"Looks like a typical American high school to me," Josh replied. "The diversity is a little overwhelming for me, though."

"Welcome to America, I guess. Home of the deep-fried butter and the First Amendment. God bless this country." She sounded sarcastic on the last part, but he wasn't sure. Probably not.

A few of the kids exiting from the evening dismissal noticed Josh staring at them. Instead of a rude remark or an upset protest like he expected, they pointed at him and made a small commotion. Soon there was a small crowd gathered around them. Or him, to be precise.

"You seem to be pretty popular," Alicia commented.

"Are you sure it's not just you? Literally everyone I know here disappeared. All of them. I don't know why they know me."

"Oh, it must be..." She seemed to remember something and took out her touchscreen phone. Josh narrowed his eyes. Maybe it's time he should get one of these, just to fit in better. "Did you not see the news lately?"

"Too busy with moving."

She let him view the page on her device. It was a news article about the attempted hijack of a Hong Kong Airlines flight, and how a brave youth managed to put a stop to the terrorists. Josh opened his mouth but couldn't decide on what to say. He glanced at the students around him, their eyes alight with admiration and reverence. How long has anyone ever looked at him like that?

"Hey, you're that guy on the news!" A white kid called out. He would label him as just American, but now that he's living here again it might be for the best that he should get to the specifics.

"What is he?" He whispered to Alicia, who instantly gave him a mixed expression of shock and puzzlement.

"You...shouldn't say that."

"Yo nice job taking care of the trash, fam." Someone patted on his shoulder. Josh turned around. Another white student, with round glasses, an epidemic of acne, and dark hair.

"Uh, thanks, I guess." He leaned to Alicia again. "I mean where are they from. Their ancestry. I need the research, if I am to go here."

"Oh." She replied. "That's Bill from pre-calc. He's Irish."

"How can you tell?"

"Well..."

"You showed those bastards who's the boss, dude." An Asian student walked up to him and shook his hand.

"He's Korean." Josh quickly identified as he left. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a girl coyly standing at the back of the crowd, carrying her books and binders by the chest. "And that one over there, she's Japanese."

"...How can you tell?"

"Well, it's easy. For Koreans you could tell from the way their eyes are slanted. Some of them have—"

"Okay let's not get racial here."

Next, a tall, black student who must be a third or fourth year approached him. Senior? Is that the term here? While Hong Kong is more familiar with the idea of African Americans than places like China, Josh still had a sort of innocuous curiosity at trying to figure him out. The black man had nothing to say, but his hand was raised, as if he has an answer to a question nobody asked.

"He wants to do a high-five," Alicia explained.

 _Oh._ Josh thought. _That American thing._ He awkwardly palmed the student's hand, who gave him a funny look and stalked away with several of his kin.

"Smooth."

When the crowd eventually lost their interest and began to disperse, Josh started for the stairs that lead to the entrance, with Alicia following.

"Still thinking of going here?"

"Where else would I go?"

"Good question." She went ahead of him. "I know the principal well. Let me inform him that you are going to apply here. Thank me later when you get it over with under twenty minutes." Alicia took a few steps before stopping and turning back around.

"Before I go, let me tell you something. You know what clubs are, right?"

"I have a vague notion." Josh said. "Something about kids staying after school for recreational activities."

"More or less." She crossed her arms. "Listen, I know nothing more substantial than several baseless rumors and gossips, but apparently there is a Chinese Zodiac Club in the school. No one knows who they are or what they do, but I'm almost positive that it's made entirely of Stand users. Call it a detective's tuition, if you will."

Josh cocked an eyebrow. "I'm more interested in the club's name, By zodiac, you mean the twelve animals of the Chinese astrology? Rat, ox, tiger, rabbit..."

"Maybe," she said, "but the name might just be a code name of some sort. Look, the point is that you are the first Stand user I know transferring into the school. If this Zodiac club is made of Stand users, you might want to watch yourself. It is very possible that they have ways of knowing who you are."

"Interesting," he noted. "I might just see if they got the animals right, if they ever check on me. You'd be surprised to see how many Americans thought cat is on the list."

"...I see we have different concerns about this." She sighed. "So, it's not?"

"What's not?"

"Cat. It's not a part of the Chinese zodiac?"

He gave her a look. "No."

Alicia shrugged. "You learn something new every day. Anyway, just be wary. It might turn out to be a real astrology club in the school, which is a first. Who knows." She went inside, hands stuck in her jacket. Josh watched several more students leave before realizing he should go. His mother's friend is having a small welcome dinner for them, and it would be rather troublesome for him to be late.


	5. D-O Double G - Part 1

It's only been four days since he started going to school, but Josh is already dreading the rest of the year. Math here is a joke. He learned all the stuff Mr. Trevor's been teaching since middle school. Having to sit through this for nine months is going to be torture.

"Mr. Trevor," the school's principal, Mr. Quincy, poked his head into the class. "How is Josh handling the trigonometry?"

The class shifted their attention to his seat, right in the center of the room. "Oh he's excellent." His teacher said, flipping through the binder where he keeps track of his students' behavior. "Turned in every homework assignment and got a full mark on the last test. AP material for next year."

"Good, good." Mr. Quincy gave him a friendly smile. "I hope you'll like our school, Josh. We take pride in it."

Josh groaned inwardly. Everyone in the school knows him, even the janitors and the lunch ladies. So much for his plans on having a quiet school life.

When the forty-five minute period was over, Josh, after escaping the swarm of underclassmen asking him questions, walked out of the class and used the clogged hallway to his advantage, hiding his face behind ever shuffling people in front of him. Over a thousand students attend Edison High, and while he is still irritated at the traffic's slow-as-snail pace, it has been proving to be useful on evading unwanted attention.

A group of kids in pristine black uniform marched past him as he stood by his locker. Baggy blue pants and decorated with medals and ribbons. JRTOC, or Junior Reserve Training Officer Corps. The sponsored federal program by the state, its general goal is to instill a sense of discipline, responsibility, and accomplishment to students. So far, they were the only ones who gave him the impression that not all American kids are class skippers with piercings and punk styled haircuts.

Josh watched them disappear into the sea of students, admiring their uniforms. He wondered what were the requirements to join as he dug around his locker, which was placed in a section not many passes by.

Footsteps. Light but discernable.

"You again?"

"Excuse me for checking on your well-being then." He heard Alicia retort.

"Don't worry, I didn't get attacked by them."

"Yet. Well, I have physics next, so try to survive until the end of the day." She walked away with several of her friends, chatting on what he thinks to be plans for college.

 _Trust me,_ he thought, taking a sip from a water bottle. _I don't even need to try._ So far there were no signs of this zodiac club being active, let alone even exist. Alicia's "detective intuitions" may very well just her being way too overcautious. It might be just a rumor, a hoax. Why would anyone in America start a club like this?

He took a look at his schedule taped on the inside of his locker. Next period for him is chemistry, in room 202. There is only a five-minute break between each period, so it would be a good idea to start going now. Perfect attendance is something he plans to achieve by the end of this year, as sort of a consolation price for the horrible airplane trip he had.

* * *

When the day was over, Josh considered the option of joining the JROTC. He found a lot of free time lately, and he's not particularly proud of the way he spends it, napping away like crazy to catch up on the time lag. The pseudo-military program could help him to discipline himself, and his mother would appreciate the benefits it could bring for college applications.

Since most of the kids left like a rhinoceros stampede from the dismissal, the hallways are pleasantly empty, which is all the more easier for him to find their main office. The problem is that he doesn't know where. Edison is by far the largest school he's ever attended.

"Hey, you."

A voice called behind him, and surprisingly it's not Alicia. Josh turned around, his backpack slung over one shoulder. Must be one of his so called "fans" again. Would an autograph and a "selfie" with him do for this one?

"May I help you?" He said, looking at the white...currently unidentified student, whose unkempt brown hair that did not complement the JROTC uniform he wore. But to Josh, he's perfect. He'll ask him for directions.

"You are not from Tesla Tech, are you?" The kid said before he could speak.

Josh raised an eyebrow. That's a new one. "What? Why would I be?"

"Liar." He approached him with a readable aggression. "I'm gonna teach you a lesson for spying on our school."

If it was possible to raise his eyebrows any higher, Josh would have pulled a muscle or two. What did he do to tick this kid off? And more importantly, what is kid going to do? He recalled on seeing two black students surrounded by a crowd a few days ago, chanting something to the extent of "Warstar". They circled around each other for five solid minutes before engaging into a ridiculous slap match. That was considered a fight here.

The JROTC kid indeed wants to start a fight, as he leaned forward and swung a laughable fist at him. Josh, unsure on what to do, caught him by the hand, who in response appeared to be shocked.

"What? How?" He struggled in his hold. "Let go of me, damn you!"

"Uh..." He let go. The kid backed away a few steps.

"Fuck, he's good." He heard him mutter. "Some kind of secret Chinese kung fu?"

"Hey pal," Josh said, dropping his bag by a locker. "I don't know what you want, but don't ever call me that again."

"What, Chinese?"

"I'd watch it if I were you. Go on, state your business or scram."

"My business is to punch you in the face!" He swung again. Josh casually dodged it by leaning his face away. "Damn it, stop moving!"

"You one of those 'bullies' the teachers tried to warn me?"

"Hell no! I'm gonna do more than just bully you!" The kid stopped and stepped back again, realizing the denotation in his words. "Fuck, that came out more wrong than I thought. No homo."

"Tell me where the JROTC office is and I'll forget this ever happened."

To his surprise the kid actually looked like he was considering the idea. Then he blinked. "Wait, why should I listen to you? Stand your ground and fight me like a man!"

Josh sighed. "Look kid, I'm mentally exhausted from having to sit through ten boring periods. Here, how about this," he took out a five dollar bill from his pocket. "Just show me where the office is."

The JROTC cadet made a huge show contemplating his bribe, or at least Josh hoped he did. The kid actually looked tempted. "Fine," he snatched it from his hands, "go down the hall and turn right. You can't miss Sergeant Wexford in his unwashed uniform." He stuffed the money into his uniform pocket and bolted. Josh watched him cover a good amount of distance before a grave realization struck him.

 _"Joshua," his mother said, vacuuming the living room floor for the second time today, "there is five dollars on the table. Go get me some tofu after school today."_

Tofu. He needed the money to buy tofu.

Joshua Jiu fears no man. From the obstinate police of Hong Kong to ruthless Triad gangsters, there is nothing him and his knowledge of the merciless streets couldn't handle. But women, they are something different. He nearly got a thirty-minute scolding after almost being late to dinner the other day. Failing to bring back the tofu his mother needs for a dish is simply an automatic death sentence.

Fueled by the motivation from the fear of certain death, his willingness to live gave him the adrenaline he needed to catch up to the kid, who was surprisingly athletic enough to give him trouble on fully closing their distance. The two, like cat and mouse, pursued and evaded one another throughout the relatively deserted school. Only the lingering clubs managed to catch a glimpse of one of the most intense chases in their school history.

After what seemed to be like two full trips around the school, the JROTC kid found himself on the first floor and the first thing he went for was the main entrance. Josh darted past the security guard before he could yell at them for running in the hallways. As soon as he steps out, his foot was caught by what felt like a steel cable.

If he wasn't able to put on his Stand, Cydonia, as a suit of armor in time, the kid would have paid so much insurance that his mother could afford to go back to Hong Kong, buy her way out of the Triad's grudge, and straight up become a Red Pole.

Fully clad in his armor, Josh got back up, grunting. The kid stared at him by the school's willow tree, and for the second time in the day, he sighed to himself, heavily. A lean figure stood behind the kid, fully covered in vines. Its head was shaped like a canine's. With the sole exception of its left eye, a yellow sphere that glowed faintly with animal intensity, the entirety of its body was shrouded in leaves.

"So you really are a Stand user," the JROTC cadet said, shaking a little. "I knew it, you are from Telsa Tech..."

Josh rubbed the plated bridge of his nose. School. Is it going to drag on like this every day until he graduates?

* * *

The Chinese Zodiac Club

My first entry since attending here, starting at the beginning of my sophomore year. It's for this club that I had to transfer. Based on what I already know, the Chinese Zodiac Club is not an official club in the school. Its name is not on the papers, and no one knows what they do. But despite that, almost every student in the school is aware of this oddity, something akin to an authentic urban legend. From what I've gathered since September, the Club's most recent activity was last year when a kid named John Johnson supposedly died in a car accident. Some students claim he was part of the Club, while others say that they were the ones behind his death.

There is one thing I know that others don't: the Chinese Zodiac Club has exactly twelve members, not counting the supposed advisor. Each one of them represents a different animal of the Chinese astrology, going from rat, ox, tiger, rabbit, dragon, snake, horse, goat, monkey, rooster, dog, and pig, in that correct order. But there is one thing about this club that I do not get. Let's take the rat, for example. The last year of the rat was 1996, and unless one of their members is a left-back student, I fail to see how they can truly represent the animal. If what I think is correct, our generation should be composed mostly of rabbits and dragons, having born between 1999 to 2000, so my theory is that the members of the club only symbolizes their assigned animals in name for the sake of theme.


	6. D-O Double G - Part 2

The JROTC kid's Stand retracted its root-like tendril from the main entrance, the perpetrator that caused Josh's literal downfall. It slipped back into its rooted lower half, planted deep into the ground. Josh allowed his own Stand, Cydonia, to emerge in front of him, assuming a natural combat stance.

"Give me my five dollars back." He demanded.

The kid felt for the bill in his pocket. "You'll have to fight me to get it, asshole."

"So be it."

Cautiously he studied him, who stood by the school's willow tree, a relic from its founding days. Cydonia's range is only a little better than his own, and in order to do anything significant, he will need to get closer.

The canine-headed Stand made the first move. It unraveled its thin arms into a mass of vines and wrapped them around the knight, stopping its movement. Unwilling to back down, Josh's unrelenting resolve on retrieving back his monetary note did not waver by the entanglement, and with some effort, the knight managed to rip the vines apart.

The kid took a step back. His Stand formed its vines back as its arms and it lowered itself to the ground, swimming through it in breaststroke motions, its roots digging apart the earth. Within seconds it was able to get behind Josh. "Have a mouthful of Mother Nature!" The canine palmed its hands together and fired countless blades of willow leaves from its body.

Josh quickly recalled Cydonia, letting it encase around him. The leaves, harmless as they seemed, scratched the surface of his armor, grazing it like cuts left by sharp blades made of real steel.

"It's not over yet!" The canine Stand, still rooted behind him, delivered a flurry of jabs, catching Josh unaware. Despite its scrawny stature, the repeated assault of its fists slammed into his back like a rushing sledgehammer. Once again, if it were not for his durable armor, his mother would have been a rich, rich woman.

Josh saw an opening. An opportunity for a counterattack, even at this range. When the Stand pulled its arm back and was about to administer a finishing uppercut, Josh unarmored himself, allowing the punch to send him flying. He felt his cheekbone might have been dislocated, and small splashes of blood flowed from his mouth and nose. But the pain, now momentarily numbed by the rush of the airtime, proved to be worthy.

"Haha, idiot!" The kid pointed at him sailing through the air and mocked, but his jaw hung open when he realized he was sailing towards him.

 _ **"Deus!"**_ Cydonia performed a roundhouse kick as he flew past him. Its plated foot hit the kid squarely in the jaw and he slammed into the willow tree, shivering its delicate branches. Josh then was able to land right in the middle of the street after a small skidding on his Stand's legs.

"Hah!" Using his own fist, a weaker but more satisfying alternative, Josh dashed to the tree and sought to teach the guy a lesson. It landed, but instead of an expected cry, the pain was for himself. His face. It's stupidly hard, not to mention its rough and coarse texture, feeling suspiciously like the trunk of the tree behind him.

"I'm wood, retard."

Josh swung again, this time with Cydonia. The canine Stand caught the hand with its own. His knight kicked in response, but the root-like tendrils from the Stand's lower half wrapped around its leg.

"Bastard."

Using the force he absorbed from the flurry of fists earlier, Josh concentrated the energy to the knight's head. The blue marking on Cydonia's helmet glowed, and it tilted back for a supercharged headbutt.

The willow tree shook violently. He only smashed a hole in the trunk. The kid had turned himself into a collection of leaves, phasing through his attack from harm. When Cydonia pulled itself back, the dog Stand, still grabbing onto half of his limbs, unleash another barrage of punches using its free hand.

"ATATATATATATATATATATATATATA!" The kid formed back to his human state and shouted as his Stand pummeled the knight's head. Unlike the terrorist's wind genie, its strength was not enough to make the plates crack, but Josh was still able to feel the echoed collisions on his face, however weak it may be. When sensing its final blow, Josh let Cydonia raise its other free arm and saved his face from certain surgical expenses. The intricate patterns on the area it was hit glowed brightly, and Josh swung back, smashing its fist into the canine. As the usual rules of Stands apply, the shared impact also knocked the air of out its user's chest.

"Ugh!" He coughed, hitting into the trunk of the willow tree once again. Pressing the momentum to his advantage, Josh commanded his knight to return the favor. While it's unable to unleash its own barrage of punches, having used up its stored up energy from the headbutt earlier, several well-aimed hits would get the job done.

But he missed, as the kid's Stand carried its user away. Cydonia's fist crashed into the trunk of the poor willow tree, leaving a deep, fist-shaped mark. When he turned back around, Josh found him to be on the other side of the street.

"Not bad," he heard him say.

"I need my five dollars," Josh replied, his Stand hovering before him.

"And I need you to piss off from our school,"

The cool, October wind blew, and a red car sped past by, its engines roaring. Across the street, they glared at one another. Then the second dismissal bell rang. No students came rushing out of the entrance, as they had all cleared from the first bell long ago. As soon as it finished ringing, the kid's dog Stand palmed its hands together and discharged a volley of its razor-sharp leaves once again. Josh let his Stand cover him, raising an arm to shield his face.

When the attack was over, the kid was smiling. His Stand. It's gone.

It should be noted that it was a quite good timing to have nobody around them, because it would have been difficult to explain the willow tree getting uprooted and thrown at him.

"Oh what the hell!"

"「D-O Double G」 has been pulling it out underneath the ground this whole time!" The kid yelled from a safe distance. "You'll pay for—"

The tree flew towards him horizontally, taking up the entire street. Brushing by the parked cars and shuffling them out of their spots, the tree threatened to crush Josh in his suit of armor, almost seemed to demand vengeance from his mistreatment of it earlier. Bracing himself for the impact, Josh caught it with both of his hands, the ground scraping as he gets pushed down the street. Summoning the strength gained from his balanced and nutritious breakfast of American cereal and milk, his strained grunt slowly but steadily turned into a valiant shout, and the tree eventually was put to a stop, after having forced him more than twenty meters from where he was.

"God _damn_ ," he heard the kid say.

Josh flung it back.

The green canine immediately launched itself into action, wrapping the entirety of its body around the tree and dragging it down to the ground before it was able to crash into its user. It did not prepare itself for the two invisible strikes Cydonia launched, however.

"Oh shi—"

One missed, but the other blast of sheer momentum, concentrated from absorbing the falling tree, struck the kid in his stomach like a battering arm. He was blown all the back to another street before a fire hydrant stopped him.

Small wisps of blue smoke rose from the markings on the knight's arms, and Josh sheathed Cydonia away inside of himself as he walked up to the unconscious kid and fished out his five dollars, now wet and soggy from the spilling hydrant.

"Fuck." He cursed his unfortunate fate.

His Stand, interestingly enough, disappeared into the fallen tree, not back to its user. Josh held his bill up to the setting sun and hoped it would dry at least a tiny bit before it goes down.

The speakers began blaring.

"Joshua Jiu," It was a voice that he did not recognize. Deep and commanding, it ignored the physical limitations of the cheap sounding speakers. "We have found your backpack. Please come to Gym 1 to retrieve your belonging. Joshua Jiu, Gym 1."

He placed the money where it properly belonged and went back inside before anyone could see what they had done to the street. Just wait til the school hears about this. They don't have security cameras around, do they?

* * *

Stand name: D-O Double G

User: Miller Jackson

Appearance: A thinly built humanoid Stand with a knack for swimming through the ground, the head of D-O Double G strongly resembles that of a canine's, with the protruded nose and the two large ears. The lower half of its body consists of a complex arrangement of what appears to be plant roots. Its body depends on the environment it was summoned from, but the general form it appears in has its head shrouded by a foliage of willow tree leaves and a wild entanglement of vines on its body. Its left eye, bulbous and yellow, is always exposed.

Destructive Power: **C**

Speed: **B**

Range: **A**

Durability: **C**

Precision: **A**

Developmental Potential: **B**

Abilities:

 _Botanical Bod_ y – D-O Double G can only be summoned from a plant. It could be any kind, so long as it's within the approximate range of the user. When successfully manifested, its body will then be composed of the said plant. It also has the ability to temporarily turn its user's body as a plant.

 _Photosynthetic Regeneration_ – When bathed in sunlight, D-O Double G could heal itself, and by extension, its user, with astonishing speed and seemly no limitations. The speed of its healing is directly proportional to how much sunlight it receives.

 _Flora Manipulation_ – An unusual ability that Miller doesn't use often, D-O Double G is also able to greatly accelerate or decelerate the growth rate of a plant. It's something that makes gardeners around the world gnaw at their gloves with envy.

Notes: An elastic and flexible Stand which belonged to the JROTC cadet Miller Jackson, who represented the Dog of the Chinese Zodiac Club.


	7. Gym 1

Josh has physical education in the schedule he was assigned to, and while he did not voluntarily sign up for the school's volleyball course, it did take place at Gym 1, and so he was able to find it with ease. There was not a single soul in the hallways, a sight to be expected of on Fridays. American kids seem to dislike school more so than his fellow Hongkongers. Only the school's staff, a few clubs, and practice teams remained in the building.

The entrance to the gym was ajar, with dim and orange light spilling out into the hallway. Save for his backpack and a dignified-looking student, the gymnasium is as deserted as rest of the school.

The student opened his eyes and turned his attention towards him. Unlike the JROTC kid from before, his brown hair is neatly brushed back, and practically the entire left side of his uniform is decorated with medals and awards, accomplishments he had achieved over the years in the state sponsored program. Almost a whole head taller than Josh, the cadet's nameplate displayed his surname to be Jackson, and, if he remembered the rankings he saw on the flyer correctly, his ranking is that of a colonel, the highest possible prestige to obtain in the JROTC. This guy doesn't joke around, does he?

"You must be Joshua Jiu," he spoke, and Josh immediately recognized his husky voice as the same one on the speakers. He didn't catch the nameplate on the previous kid before. Is there a chance that they know each other?

"That would be me."

"Imbecile," like thunder, he snapped out of nowhere. "How _dare_ you leaving your belongings in the hallway like a pigeon's rotting corpse on the streets? You can't be even called a maggot. They are more useful than the likes of you even as nature's freeloaders."

It's almost comical on how much of a difference this guy is compared to the kid.

"Look," Josh started, "there was something urgent for me to do, so I apologize for leaving my bag. Now, if you'll be kind enough to hand it over, sir, I have something equally urgent for me to attend."

He backed a step away when Jackson attempted to slap some discipline into him. The two shared a moment of stiff silence.

"You have some nerve coming back here, freshman."

"Junior, sir."

"Insolent underclassman, is the word respect lost to your generation? I say you are a freshman, and you are a freshman."

Josh couldn't decide on whether to raise his eyebrow or to narrow them. They must be strained with all the American shenanigans he had to deal with so far. This country, it's something else, isn't it?

"How arrogant you are," Jackson continued, "thinking that you can come to this school, after pulling that atrocious stunt."

"Stunt?"

"Freshman."

If he was still in Hong Kong this guy would have been socked right now. Hard. "Stunt, sir?"

"What in the devil are you thinking, standing up to them like that? Radical Islam does not negotiate, and mercy is a word extinct to them like respect to you."

Great, now he can narrow his brows without hesitance, all right. _Someone_ has to bring it up every day, and he's already starting to regret ever fighting back against the terrorists. But what would anyone else have done in his situation? It was the right thing to do. He was the only one on the plane who had the power to stop them. Well, there was Alicia's father, Mr. McCall, but he was stuck in the bathroom.

"Your peers hold you in high regards, freshman," Jackson said. "And they will inevitably start to emulate you. Subconsciously, if they are not aware of it. The next time they witness a bank robbery or a mugging on the streets, what are they going to do? They will get reminded of your 'heroic deeds', and draw inspiration from it, only to get shot or stabbed afterward."

He blinked. The words, while he could understand them individually, as taught carefully by his British teacher back home, did not make not sense to him. The only reaction he could muster was a slow and disoriented "...What?", in the hope that he might have misheard or misinterpreted the cadet's meaning.

"Do you have any idea how many students of the Islamic faith attend here? Ever since your arrival I have received endless complaints in the office from them, shunning you from creating an anti-Islamic presence in the school."

"I never did that," Josh replied, his voice feeling hoarse. "I never did any of that."

The cadet tapped his head. "Yes, yes you did. You may not have done it yourself, but the hate and the propaganda were distributed through the symbolism of you conquering the terrorist threat. Who knows what would they have done, if they took over the airplane's controls? Another tragedy of the radicalism sect will occur, and since you are the shining diamond of hope that placed a wrench in their plans, the bigots, fanatics, and extremists hidden among us in the school have rallied, now that you, the champion they've been waiting for, is here."

"No. You're kidding."

"I had to break up a riot fifth period today. Surely you must have heard the commotion, freshman?"

"But I thought that was just a fight."

"It started as one, but it only takes an unassuming ember to light the whole city aflame. The cafeteria had to shut down, and those that were involved were immediately charged with indefinite suspension."

Riots. Is that what is really going on at school? All those kids adoring him, worshiping him, he thought it was just harmless admiration. He thought his actions on the plane were for the best. How could he possibly have known that this would happen?

"I..." Josh stuttered. He couldn't even think properly now. "I didn't think it will lead to this."

"You didn't. You saved the plane and did your part. But don't worry." Jackson said. "The school security is trained for events like this, and I, alongside the student president, will try our best to resolve this peacefully. It all stems from hate in the end. The firebrands that ignited this false crusade, they are just afraid. Afraid of the fear caused by the terrorists worldwide. All it takes is some counseling for them. They are still young, and thus susceptible to the notion of change. They could still be saved.

"As for you, however," The cadet handed him his backpack. "It may be too late for you. So long as you are here, the sparks will never die, only kept suppressed under the icy winds of vigilance and the watchful eyes of the law and order. Riots like this will break out again, and again, and again, until the day comes that it cannot be contained."

"What should I do, then...?"

"Leave." He stated, his aquamarine eyes seemed to be piercing through him. "Leave this school. Leave Thomas A. Edison High, and leave the city of Westingdale. Maybe even California, if it comes down to it. Move to another town, adopt a new name, and hope the people there wouldn't recognize you."

"Leave..." Josh echoed, staring blankly at his backpack. It may be just him, but it felt particularly heavy.

"Of course, you don't have to go right away, else the students would start to suspect. Give it a few weeks." Jackson checked his wristwatch for the time. "What are you giving me that dull look for, freshman? You are dismissed. Consider the advice from all of us that care."

His legs dragged him out of the gym, the door creaking before stopping ajar just like before. It's been less than a month since he and his mother escaped from the Triad's grasp in Hong Kong, and now they have to be on the move once again, all because of him. They will have to withdraw the small fortunate of money deposited in the bank, which originally intended to as his pay college, in order settle down in their new home in the middle of nowhere.

Will he be able to convince his mother to move again? The Triads, it was his fault for angering them in the first place, and his father had to pay the price. Coming to America was their only hope at living a normal life again. But the terrorists had to show up.

As he stalked into the hallway lifelessly like a reanimated corpse lacking a master, a young girl bumped into him right around the corner. Luckily she wasn't carrying anything for gravity to drop. Unluckily, she recognized him, and he did too, in return.

"Jo...Joshua?" The girl stuttered in an almost inaudible volume. She's the Japanese girl in his Chemistry class. Annie or Anna, one of those. It's incredibly easy to miss her with that tiny build, braided hair, and eyeglasses. There are too many in the school that reassembled her meek Asian girl look.

He muttered a quick greeting and shuffled past her.

"W...Wait! H-Hold on!" She caught up to him, panting. Josh looked at her. "D-Do you know this girl named Amber?"

The Muslim girl in their Chemistry class, who sat on the other side of the room. Did she participate in that riot today?

"W-Well, she wants to t-tell you that s-she's grateful."

"What?" Unsure on hearing her stuttered words correctly, Josh stopped in his tracks and faced her. "Grateful?"

"Um..." the girl glanced away, pursuing her lips. "Y-Yeah, she told me at lunch that she wants to tell you on the b-behalf of all of the Muslim students i-in the school thatshewantstoapplaudyouforsavingthepeopleontheplaneand-"

"Slow down, Ann..."

"A-Anna."

"Anna. What did she say?"

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "She, as the representative of the Muslim Club, wants to express thanks to you for standing up to the radical and the extremists of their religion, as well as saving all the lives of the people on the plane."

"She's grateful for me? But what about the riot?"

"Riot, J-Joshua?"

"The riot earlier in the day? The one that started out as a fight?"

"Um...there was no riot." She said. "But p-people did talk about you. A lot."

"Me?"

"Y-Yeah, in the hallways, lunch, and even in classes, with the teacher pitching in as well. Everyone is proud for you to be in the same school as them." She peeked at the floor coyly, twisted her body side to side. "Um...I-I as well..."

But Josh was already gone by then. He dashed straight back to the gym, leaving his backpack behind.


	8. Eye of the Tiger - Part 1

"Did you forget something, freshman?" Jackson said when Josh came barging in. He seemed to be playing with something in his palm, though it vanished as soon as he entered. Was he seeing things?

It didn't matter. "There was no riot." Josh stepped towards him.

"And just how did you come to that conclusion?"

"This girl told me."

"'This girl told me'." Jackson mocked. "'This girl told me'. You freshmen never cease to amaze me at your thought processes. Tell me, what makes you think that girl is telling the truth? For all that you know, she may have been in the riot herself. Provoked it, even."

For a brief moment, Josh considered his words, as there was a point in them, and it was sharp enough to poke at his conviction to find the truth. But he believed in the girl. He believed in the Amber in her story, and he believed her gratitude towards him. The prospect of her telling the truth gave him hope. It was a feeling that he very much liked to hold onto since the passing of recent events, and because of this, he is willing to stand up for her.

"I'm going to see it myself," Josh turned back around. "If there is going to be a riot around me tomorrow, then I will leave." He started for the exit before hearing the sole listener in the gym, the cadet, chuckle. A dark chuckle at that, the sort he knows too well himself.

"So I suppose this is where it ends." The cadet colonel said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall. "Bryce respected your actions on the plane, so he proposed on giving you a chance to leave peacefully."

Josh stopped. "What?"

"You should have gladly taken it. This could have been avoided, if you didn't listen to that girl."

"You..."

"I'm going to finish what my brother has started. That imbecile, always leaving me clean up his messes."

Something formed in Jackson's hand and he tossed it at Josh. Cydonia punched it away, bouncing harmlessly off a wall. It was a capsule, dark-blue on the top and midnight black on the bottom.

"So you are one of them as well..." Josh backed away, leaning against the exit. "The Chinese...Zodiac Club."

"I'm surprised you know about us," Jackson, undisturbed by walking into Cydonia's range, casually picked up his darkly colored pill. "Who told you, I wonder? Was it someone at Tesla Tech?"

Again with Tesla Tech. That school is at Peregrines, the prosperous city that borders the Death Valley. Why makes him think he's from there?

The cadet colonel twisted the pill and tossed it at him again. Cydonia deflected it with an uppercut. The exit is just behind him. Would a strategic retreat do for the moment?

"Run all you want," Jackson said. "I'm not going to stop you."

The pill, still flickering the air, burst open, and a tiger with a transparent body of ice leaped out.

"He will, however."

 _ **"Deus!"**_ Cydonia reflexively swung at the oversized feline. It nimbly tilted back its head back and clawed at Josh, who blocked the otherwise instantaneous fatal blow with his knight in dark armor. The tiger then immediately followed up with a fierce pounce. Josh considered his options. He could either dive straight for the exit and risk getting his stomach mauled or run towards the gym.

"Hah!" Using the momentum stolen from the tiger's strike, Cydonia fired a shot of the pressurized potential energy from its fist. It struck the tiger dead-on, cracking the side of its body, which resulted a roared dedicated to him and began to sprint. Josh couldn't help but notice the distinctive Chinese character for「king」carved onto its forehead, a trait the Far East believed to be shared by all tigers, fitting as it is.

It leaped at him, and Josh, using the powerful legs of his Stand, propped himself up onto the nearby bleachers. The tiger tried to climb up after him, but Cydonia wouldn't let that happen, kicking it in its face and stomping on its gigantic crystalline paws.

Jackson stood by the exit of Gym 1, watching them fight, which gave Josh an idea. Gripping on the railings of the bleachers, Cydonia ripped a portion of it apart and hurled towards him like a spear. The tiger would have to be recalled to defend its master, and that will give him more time to think of a way to beat this thing. It seems to have an inexhaustible source of energy. Facing a tiger as a human, even with the invaluable aid of a powerful Stand, is no easy feat to achieve. Beasts are naturally adapted to the art of savagery, and they will not hesitate to strike at decisive moments.

To his surprise, the tiger did not so much as to even take one glance at the flying railing. Jackson, with an alarmed grimace, jumped out of the way, frowning at his own Stand. What does that mean? The tiger snarled and swatted away Cydonia's attempts on keeping it down. It flipped itself onto the bleachers, forcing Josh to armor up as a result. He stared down at the oversized cat, who growled lowly as it encircled him.

"Hah!" He kicked at it, immediately feeling the huge difference in terms of agility when compared to his own body. He had his Stand for a little over a year now, but its sheer unwieldiness still proved difficult to master. Basic form and moves are all that he could do while encased within it.

The tiger backed away to evade the blow and mauled at him using its icy paws. Josh managed to catch it with his arms, and as heavy as it is, he flipped the cat over his shoulders, sending it crashing down the bleachers, which collapsed as a result.

"Destruction of school property," he heard Jackson comment. "All the more to justify your 'disappearance', spy."

Josh landed on the gym floor, and let Cydonia cover his front. The tiger is facing the wall, clawing frantically at every direction.

"What is it doing?" Josh muttered. Then he saw it. Its left eye, it's missing. Was it that way since the beginning?

Grabbing a sharp piece of the destroyed bleacher, he sneaked to its left, seeking to impale it through the crack on its side. Judging by its negligence of protecting its user from before, this Stand must be one of those autonomous types that worked independently. The user will either take very little damage from the Stand, or none at all, which means it's a green light for him to go all out on this one.

"Listen to me for once! To your left!"

But to his annoyance, Jackson yelled from across the gym, and the tiger immediately turned its head and saw Josh. It roared ferociously, the setting sun from the windows gleaming off its perfectly reflective body. In fact, it was so perfect, the sun's beams went directly to his eyes, and as a result, blinded him.

He heard it growl. Cydonia, by instinct, punched violently to his front, but it was only several empty strikes later that Josh realized it's not coming towards him. Where is it? He couldn't hear its steps. Cats are famous for it. The tiger could strike at him from any direction, so he placed on his armor once again, anticipating the impact. When regained his eyesight, the tiger was right in front of him. Josh moved his arms to guard against its mauling, but...

"I-I can't move?!"

The tiger struck him squarely in the chest, and the sensation felt so heavy that he thought it would explode. An intense wave of coldness rushed through his plates, numbing the momentary pain that came from the large crack in his armor. He tried moving his arms again in an act of retaliation, but they were stiff, barely able to bend them at the elbows.

"My arms...they are frozen?!"

The tiger of ice attacked him again. He was able to raise his rigid right arm a little just in time, but the connected strike made it feel even more useless than before, the frostbite freezing his nerves to who knows how low the temperate this cat is.

Jackson watched from afar, a smirk beginning to form on his stoic demeanor.


	9. Eye of the Tiger - Part 2

Frostbite is one of the worst things a person could have while fighting off a fierce tiger. Josh had completely lost feelings in his arms, which hung stiffly from his body as dead weight. He had to shed his armor to its Stand form in order to defend himself, losing his last line of personal defense. Fortunately, Cydonia's own arms are unaffected.

The tiger of ice snarled and leaped at him. Cydonia grabbed it with a hug and pinned it down on the linoleum floor, wrestling with the wild animal. Slowly he skirted to the tiger's blind side, the left, walking out of its effective vision, and looked for any ways he might beat this thing.

There, across the gym, he found a bucket and a mop. He could use that to keep the tiger away from himself.

Cydonia managed to lift the cat and tossed it away, but it flipped mid-air with graceful agility and landed with a small thud. He doesn't have much time. Josh darted for the janitor's tools. When the tiger caught up to him it was met with a slap of cheap metal to the face. The school's budget don't have a lot to spare for the janitor, it seems.

Josh stood behind the knight, his arms hanging in a limp and awkward position. He'd have to do something about them soon. Living the rest of his life as a cripple isn't something he always looked forward to. But first things first, the cat has to be subdued. Cydonia, in turn, spun the mop skillfully in its hands, feeling the familiar grip of a staff-like weapon. Will this buy him enough time?

 _ **"Deus!"**_ With a forceful thrust Cydonia attacked the tiger with the blunt end of the mop. It stabbed right into the symbol of the tyrant on its forehead, which led to an increased agitation. The beast clawed at the knight angrily, who in response repelled the strike with the center of its weapon. Following with an upwards flick, the mop slammed right on the tiger's chin, enraging it even further. But instead of lashing out its fury blindly it crouched downwards to survey him.

The beast tried to dash around his Stand, aiming for Josh. But he was prepared. Holding onto the pole as support Cydonia wheeled a violent kick at its face. Wasting no chance, the knight immediately followed up by bashing it repeatedly on the skull, feeling a crack somewhere in between.

 _Crap._

It wasn't the skull of the tiger that had given in. It was the mop. Josh took a glance at the tiny print by the handle. _Made in China._

Now useless, the head of the mop was shoved at the tiger's face, and Josh used its confusion to move to its left side, his knight following him. When he tried to pull his weapon away, the tiger bit at it, tearing the mop's head away from the pole.

Cydonia backed away and twirled the remaining staff in its hands, standing strong in a defensive fighting stance with the pole held behind its back. When the tiger shook free of the mop head, it lunged at him. The knight stabbed at its opened mouth. Watching it flinch in in disorientation, Cydonia pulled it back out and slammed the floor once with the end of the staff.

Growling in a quiet rage, the tiger moved to bite at the middle section of the pole. Cydonia repelled its attempt with a swing down right onto its forehead. It retracted the staff and with a spin, slammed it on the floor again.

Tired of the same process over and over, the tiger roared, no longer holding back its rage. It dodged an overhead swing and slid under the knight's legs, using the small trail of ice it created behind as a skidding surface.

Cydonia slammed the staff for the final time, and when it shattered into a smaller section with jagged ends, the knight was able to shove the stick in the middle of the tiger's mouth before it could reach Josh. He backed away, keeping his eyes on the struggling beast as it was unable to bite down.

The gym wall.

No good. He's driven himself back. Out of the corners of his eyes he saw Jackson, who no doubt must be watching with a satisfied smile. Cydonia guarded his front, fists held up. He's already exhausted from the fight with the JROTC kid from before. How long will he be able to hold this thing back, before he collapses?

The tiger spat out the broken piece of metal and approached him with a knowing crawl. It knew it had him cornered.

 _Damn._

Josh closed his eyes the moment when it pounced, but apparently it wasn't the end yet. The tiger gave some sort of purr nearby, which surprised him. He found it to be on the top of the remaining bleachers, chasing what appeared to be a red dot.

"What?"

The dot moved up the wall, and the tiger of ice clawed curiously at it. Josh noticed Jackson was bewildered just as he is.

"Where is that coming from?" The cadet colonel searched around the gym as the dot moved to guide the tiger further away from Josh. A hand was outstretched from the gym's skylight, holding a pointer pen in its grip.

 _This is my chance._ Limping towards the exit of Gym 1, Josh tried his best to ignore the wailing pain from his chest. He glared at Jackson, who had no choice but to back out of the way, lest pummeled in by Cydonia at this range.

"This is not the end!" He heard the cadet yell as he pushed himself out to the hallway. "You will not live to escape back to Telsa!"

His heart raced from the dreadful thrill that is to barely survive. That was all that mattered.

* * *

Stand Name: Eye of the Tiger

User: Tristan Jackson

Appearance: Initially confined with an everyday sized tablet capsule, the tiger itself is made of perfectly transparent ice. It's marvelous enough to make even the grandest ice sculpture melt with envy. The Chinese character for "king" is etched on its forehead, according to Josh. It should be noted that its left eye is missing at all times.

Destructive Power: **A**

Speed: **B**

Range: **B**

Durability: **C**

Precision: **F**

Developmental Potential: **C**

Abilities:

 _Undisciplinary Action_ \- The tiger is completely independent, possessing a degree of sentience much similar to a real one. It almost never obeys its user's commands and only acts in its own interest. The capsule is a check to this, as the user, Tristan, can only release it when he has to. There are only two ways to unsummon this Stand: either it gets bored during the time of its momentary freedom, or the user dies. Needless to say, Tristan tries to not rely on his Stand whenever possible.

 _Winds of Shavante_ \- Any organic target that the tiger touches will slowly lose temperate until the part that was touched completely freezes. The tiger could also manipulate the temperate around it to some degree, but very much like the Stand of the user's brother, this ability is rarely used, despite its potential. I wonder why?

Notes: The Stand of Tristan Jackson, older brother of Miller and the Tiger of the Chinese Zodiac Club. Already a cadet colonel in his junior year, Tristan, now a distinguished senior who was scouted by West Point, is one of the most serious people I've ever encountered in the school. He's as scary as Alicia, except he remains so even after you get to know him. Once he yelled at me for forgetting to pick up something I dropped. It was a traumatizing experience that I will never forget...


	10. Allies

"Crap...where did I leave my backpack?" Joshua Jiu, heavily wounded, propped himself against the hallway of his new school. His head was spinning, and his arms were dead. The hero of flight number 2521 may have escaped the jaws of death, but its cold hands still follow, menacingly.

Josh sank to the floor, not even having the mental strength to summon his Stand. Imagine the school finding him like this tomorrow.

"Dude, what the hell are you doing?" A voice spoke to him. Who was it? His head was too dizzy to make it out. "You're right in the hallway. He could still find you. C'mon."

Whoever that was, he felt they wrap an arm around his shoulder and carried him somewhere that took a quite number of turns.

"Yo, Andrew, help me out here." He heard the voice say.

"The nurse's closed," another said. "Come back tomorrow."

"Bitch quit your yapping, this guy needs help."

"Send him to the hospital then. The school nurse isn't equipped to handle celebrities."

"He got attacked. Call out your Stand."

"Stand?" Voice B said. "Why do I need to stand?"

Voice A took a deep breath. "You still owe me from last time."

"...Fine." B said. "Close the door."

Someone did, presumably A, and he even heard the lock getting turned.

"Put him here."

He felt himself getting placed on a chair. The arm around him was let go.

"All right, this is gonna hurt a little." The sound of B was closer. Was he standing in front of him? "「Dr. Dre」."

There was not a sound, not at all, but he definitely felt the presence of someone, no, some _thing_ , appear.

"Okay, so all of his ribs are broken, and the nerves in his arm are completely dead. The internal bleeding is out of control. Jesus, Miller, who did this?"

"My brother."

"Poor guy."

A strange and eerie sound was made. The low and steady humming was like one of those UFOs from old school alien movies.

Then came the pain.

Something wrapped around his mouth to block out his screaming. He squirmed uselessly as a strange, metal sensation rubbed over his arms and chest. Was he getting...probed?

"Damn, was it ever that painful?"

"The more material I use, the better the effect, and stronger the sensation. Blame your brother for this. This was necessary."

His arm. He could feel it again. He could feel the blood flowing through his arm, pulsing with joy. What was happening? When his mind was no longer fuzzy, and his blurry vision dispersed, he saw an alien. At least he thought it was. Tall and gray, the thing had sharp blades protruding from its shoulders, its huge eyes glowed a soulless red.

"Welcome back to Earth," Voice B said, who turned out to be a tan skinned youth wearing a lab coat.

"Yo." And sitting next to him was the JROTC kid.

"You...!" Josh, by instinct, tried to move, but his body was more sluggish than he ever thought it would be. More so than his armor.

"Don't strain yourself," the kid who wore the lab coat said, hands shoved in pockets. The alien thing faded inside of him. That was a Stand? "Rest for a while before you move again."

He did as he was told, but he kept his eyes on the one who started all this.

"C'mon, I just saved you," the JROTC kid said, "don't give me that look."

Was he the one who distracted the tiger? Josh narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

The lab coat guy crossed his arms and leaned back on the nurse's desk. He seems to be interested too.

"Look, this may come to you as a shock, but I don't think you are as bad as they told me. I don't know why, but I just don't."

"They?"

"Chinese Zodiac Club. Surely you must know. The entire school does."

"I do, to an extent."

"Well, I'm a part of them."

"He's the Dog." The nurse guy said. "The underdog, that is."

"Shut up. Not my fault they always send me on errands. Anyway, the point is that they are out there to get you."

"Me?"

"Yeah you, Mr. Hero who saved an entire plane of passengers. They think you are a spy from Tesla Tech."

"Seriously?" Labcoat said. "Him?"

"Apparently."

"But why?" Josh asked. "I never took a step in there, and I haven't done anything."

"I don't know either." The kid shrugged. "I'm kept in the dark as well. Only the Dragon, Tiger, and Ox knows everything, and they're the ones in charge."

"What about the guy who attacked me earlier?"

"That's Tristan, my brother. He's the Tiger, as you could probably tell."

"I have a question." Josh said. "How are you still fine? I'm pretty sure I crippled you, if not for life."

The kid smiled, and Josh noticed that his Stand, the one with the canine head, was rooted by the large potted plant in the room. It must have been the one who gagged him during his screams.

"His Stand is cheap." Labcoat answered for him. "So long as the sun is out he is practically immortal."

"Which is a shame considered by many."

"I don't understand," said Josh. "Why did you help me, uh..."

"Miller." The kid replied. "And that guy over there is Andrew. Known him since primary school."

"As much as I wish I haven't," retorted Andrew.

"Right, so why did you suddenly want to help me? Weren't you bent on 'teaching me a lesson' just a little while ago?"

"Yeah, well, I'm just sick and tired of getting ordered around without my consent. Literally no one but them thinks you're a crook."

"What is it with Tesla Tech?" Josh asked. "Are they a rival to your school or something?"

"I don't know much about their pasts, but last year we had a member who was killed by them. John Johnson, I think. He represented the Rabbit and worked well with the leading members."

"Killed?"

"Everyone in the club was sure that it was the work of a Stand. Except for me, because I wasn't allowed to look at the body."

"You forgot they literally left a calling card that said Tesla Tech," Andrew chimed in.

"Right. Yeah. So now we have this bone to pick with them."

"Clubs are not so different from gangs, it seems." Josh commented. Gangs and their petty street wars. "So who are the rest of the members I need to watch out for?"

"The thing is, I don't know. I'm just an errand boy, and since I'm pretty much dispensable they don't reveal themselves to us. I only know all this from my brother. Anyone in the school could be in the Club, a Stand user, even the prettiest girl you see."

"What about him?" Josh glanced at Andrew. "Is he a part of them?"

"Nope."

"He just works as the nurse's assistant here. No one but us knows he's a Stand user, so don't tell anyone."

"I wouldn't," Josh stood up, "out of you for saving me. Thanks, but I gotta leave now. My mom is going to kill me when I get home."

"Just one last thing," Miller stopped him before he reached for the door. "A favor, if you will."

"Favor? I'll keep your friend's identity as a Stand user, sure, but..." Josh considered the weight of the kid's actions. He wouldn't be here right now without him. "You know what, never mind. You saved my goddamn life. State your price, so long as it's not my money."

"Wellll..." Miller leaned back and shot a look at Andrew, who shrugged indifferently. "You know this girl named Alicia? Alicia McCall? White girl, blonde hair?"

"Yeah."

"I figured that much. I see you talking to her every day. Are you, uh, her boyfriend?"

"What? Hell no, my mom would disown me the moment I bring a non-Asian girl home."

"Oh," He actually looked surprised, then held his chin. "Well, change of plans then. Could you introduce me to her, out of me helping you out?"

"Sure, but you better prepare to be disappointed. I'm sure someone like her already has her own fan club or something."

"I'd be surprised if there isn't." Miller said. "I mean, have you seen her? She's _hot_ , dude. The gorgeousiest girl I've ever laid this pair of goddamn eyeballs on, if that's a real word."

"It's not," Andrew answered for him.

"Right. I wish you luck then." Josh opened the door and checked for the hallways. No signs of enemies. "I'll see you on Monday."

"Hold on," Miller called out. "You wanted to know where the JROTC office is before, right? They close at six, so if you run fast enough you might still make it."

Josh stopped. He looked at the wall. "Not anymore."

And with that, his first week of school in America is over. While he is still having trouble on adjusting to the strange lifestyle here, Josh had to admit that it was chaotic enough to make things less boring. Exciting, even.

But first he has somewhere important to go, with something personal to do. Is the supermarket still open?


	11. Night Shift

**Sorry for my MIA status. Now I'm back and will last until this 20+ chapter arc goes through. Thanks for waiting!**

* * *

Saturday night, 10:46 PM. Normally Officer McCall would be at home with his daughter, having one of their weekly family dinners, but this week was a busy one for the two of them. The security guard, Yamato, coincidentally found his night shift to be at the same time and place as Officer McCall. Again. They've been bumping into each other for so long, it is now considered as unusual if they don't.

"So how is your family?" Officer McCall said as he flipped around his pen, diligently procrastinating from the report he was supposed to fill. "Don't they like, miss you a lot? You sure travel often for your job."

His family is doing fine. Always has. The hometown he grew up in was never troubled. As for their concerns, well, while it's always better to spend time with one's family in person, the advances in today's communication technology helped tremendously. When he was younger he'd have to write letters, and it may be just him, but half the time he doesn't trust it to be delivered.

"Man, this sure sucks." McCall stood up from his work desk and stretched, rather audibly. "It's good that she was able to get inside the terrorist's computer and find out about this Organization gang, but why do I have to do all the paperwork? She'll have to learn how to do this as well, if she wants to follow in her mother's footsteps."

Yamato replied not with words but an understanding smile, his eyes hidden by the shadow cast from his cap. What a strange family. Strange, yet capable. Officer McCall is a distinguished agent in the Federal Bureau of Investigation for his twenty years of service, and his daughter, Alicia, already proved herself to be a competent detective at a young age of 16. Her mother Mrs. McCall, while passed away, was the famous spy that was sent in infiltrate the KGB in the 80′s and made it back alive unscathed. As a simple security guard Yamato couldn't just compare with them, and yet they had been meeting each other at various headquarters and stations for who knows how long. Fate had tied a string between their families, but for what purpose?

McCall walked over to the backroom, where the strange duffel bag was stored. It may look like one in appearance, but in truth Yamato heard it be a「Stand」, one of those unusual phenomena that only a select bunch in the world have. It was most likely the reason as to how the terrorists were able to sneak in the firearms into the plane. He doesn't have a Stand himself, and sometimes he can't help but wonder if it's safe to work with the McCall family, wielders of such strange abilities.

"You know," McCall returned from the room and walked over to one of the blinds by the windows. "That bag, Alicia still couldn't find its user. Where are they right now? Are they connected to this Organization the terrorists mentioned in their computer? I feel like we have just discovered something big, Yamato, something we weren't meant to discover. Just how long have this group's been established in our society? This surely can't be the first time they've assisted terrorists. Hell, that explosion in Hollywood a few years ago may be thanks to them."

That was the last thing he said before the glass broke and a bullet shot through his head. Yamato rushed over to McCall, who lost conscious almost immediately. The bullet seemed to stop right before it fully entered his skull, a small portion of it sticking out. He, as a normal person, couldn't see them, but was that the work of his Stand?

Another bullet came through from the other window. Yamato ducked and leaned against the wall. A sniper? What could they be possibly be seeking, in a lone station like this?

Then it hit him. The duffel bag. They are here to retrieve it.

Yamato reached for his handheld receiver, but before he could speak into it and request for reinforcements, the bullet from earlier went through his hand. He let out a cry blended with pain and surprise. How did that happen? The bullet, he was sure it missed. But it had come from the direction where it landed.

Breathing heavily, he propped himself against the wall and reached for his pistol with his other hand. _Focus,_ he told himself. _Listen, and predict their possible next moves._ If he was the sniper, where would they attack next? They must have figured out by now that they were the only two in the station, for otherwise Yamato would have already yelled for help.

Picking up a mug dropped from Officer McCall's desk, he held it just a little up so that the tip of it peeks out from the window. It was shot almost immediately, and he would have tried to figure out where they were shooting from if the bullet didn't stop right there. Instead of hitting the desk like he expected it do, the bullet bounced up to the wall and then ricocheted through his left thigh. He let out another pained scream. Is this how the bullet from earlier hit? It must have ricocheted around to hit him, in order to disable his receiver.

Then he saw it. The gleam. It was only a second before the sniper must have realized it and turned away, but he had seen it. The moon, cleared from the cloudy night, had shone through the sights of their rifle. A small light was sent to the wall in front of him. They certainly did not expect the moon to suddenly clear on a night like this. Now he knows where they are. If they retreat to another position, it would give him the time to escape and hide or destroy the evidence, the duffel bag.

Another shot. It bounced around the room wildly before hitting him in the left shoulder. The impact, for some reason, was tremendous. But that was irrelevant to him. The rush of adrenaline numbed most of the pain. What mattered was that they chose to stay and finish him off. He stabbed his gun out and shot a few rounds without looking. While they were distracted, he dragged McCall's body to a safer location in the room. His daughter already lost her mother at a young age. If her father died, how would he be able to face her?

Snipers seldom move, almost never if they had their targets in sight. Judging from the previous shot from the same window, they must be still in the same spot. And if he still remembers the spot on the wall where the gleam shone…

Yamato reached his gun out and fired a shot directly towards the source of the moonlight glimmer. His shot, one in a million, would have traveled straight to the sniper, if their shot did not completely overpower it. The thick rifle round went through his bullet, as if encased in some sort of armor, crushing it to a flat stub. He would have died instantly if his own bullet didn't save him, the smoothened end covering the round and grazing the side of his head.

 _Officer McCall,_ he fell on his back, darkness swarming his vision like angry hordes of ants. _I have failed…_

Yamato the security guard, retired.


	12. Lunch

"…And that's what happened." Josh uncapped his bottle of water and took a sip. Alicia, in turn, stabbed her soggy burger with a plastic fork and contemplated on whether or not if it's a good idea to eat it.

"So let me get this straight." She chose not to. "You got attacked by the Chinese Zodiac Club on Friday. Twice. And now one of the attackers," she looked at the kid in JROTC uniform sitting next to Josh, who grinned back rather enthusiastically, "wants to help you out."

"Yeah," he nodded. "In exchange for, uh, him getting to know you."

She leaned her face on her hand. "Shouldn't you be in a class right now? I don't ever recall you having lunch at this period."

"I have volleyball at Gym 1 and frankly, I don't want to go back there. Thinking of requesting for a period reschedule."

"Shouldn't be so hard. The school does anything for Mr. Hero."

"Can you drop that crap already?" Josh said. "You know, the way you Americans say it. Water under the toilet."

"Water under the bridge. Going back on the topic, I didn't realize that you do matchmaking in your spare time."

"Hey, he saved my life. Asians kind of have a soft spot for that kind of thing. It's the least I could do for him." He looked at the kid, who is named Miller. The JROTC cadet nodded, and she couldn't help but notice his black eye and swollen cheek.

"What happened to you?" She asked, looking at his wounds. They seem recent.

"My brother," the kid replied. "He found out that I helped him."

"Damn, seriously?" Josh stood up. "I was thinking to settle the fight with him today. When does he get out?"

"You can't beat him." Miller said, not taking his eyes off Alicia. "That tiger of his, I've never seen it lose in a fight."

"What do I do, then? Do I just sit and wait for more members of your club to attack me?"

"Are you sure you don't know any of them?" Alicia asked Miller. "It doesn't even have to be their Stand. Don't you know any of their identities?"

"No," Miller shook his head, "I'm sorry, but they never tell us anything. The ox, tiger, and dragon are the ones in charge and they are the ones who handle most of the activities. We only meet three times a year, once for each semester, and even then we were placed in separate rooms."

"How long have you been a part of it?"

"Just a year. They seem to fill up spots whenever a member graduates or otherwise becomes unavailable. I heard they're still looking for someone to replace John Johnson's spot for Rabbit."

"John Johnson…" Alicia stroked her chin. The student who died in a car accident last year. There was an entire funeral dedicated to him in the school. She didn't know him well, sitting a whole classroom apart from the only period she had with him. Friends aside, not many mourned. He just wasn't a very well known and outgoing guy.

But something about the whole incident that seems to feel off. If she wasn't busy on a case around the time, she would have gone investigating. It was only with this conversation that she managed to remember the kid again. "This John Johnson, do you think…"

"We did something to him?" Miller crossed his arms. "Dunno, but we were definitely involved somehow. The school ate up on him jaywalking at the wrong time, but I'm not so sure about that."

"You said your club had an ongoing rivalry with Telsa Tech, the ones that supposed to have killed him."

"Yeah, and I thought we were going to war. What happened instead, though, well, nothing happened."

She raised an eyebrow. "Nothing?"

"I was surprised myself too. We did nothing about it. The whole matter kind of just died down with the school. My brother doesn't say anything when I ask him. The poor kid, not even death gets him attention."

"So what's the deal with attacking me?" Josh asked.

"Beats me. Tristan just told me that the club thinks you are a spy from Tesla."

"And so they are allowed to just kill him?" Alica inquired incredulously.

"Well, I was told to beat him up and bring him to my brother, but I wouldn't be so sure about the other members."

She sipped through her carton of milk from a straw and dumped her tray into a nearby trash can, then stood up and gestured for Josh to follow.

"Can you trust him?" She asked when they were at a good distance away. Miller stared at them from their table. "For all we know, he may be just a double agent, watching us for his club."

"You're the detective here," Josh replied. "But if you ask me, I believe in him. He doesn't seem like the type to lie. At least, not for something like that."

"And you can tell that just how? The same way you can spot the difference between a Japanese and a Korean?" She eyed a table of Asian kids near them. "No offense whatsoever, of course."

He only gave her a nod before leaving to meet the guidance counselor for replacing his gym period before the next starts. She thought about on what to ask the kid as she went back, but he beat her to it on breaking the ice she expected to freeze over.

"So, um, when are you free today?" He asked, rather boldly.

"I have to visit my father after school today. He's currently at the hospital."

"Oh crap, is he all right?"

"Just a light bullet wound to his head. He should be fine."

The kid seemed to be relieved at her answer. Was the concern genuine, or…

"I'll come with you." He said, looking straight into her eyes.

"Don't you have work to do after school? ROTC?"

"I could skip those."

At least he's honest. "You can come if you really don't have anything else to do. I'm off at 11th period."

"Got it. I'll wait for you outside by the main entrance."

"Suit yourself. Just know that you'll probably have to wait at the lobby until I'm done." The bell rang just then, and with a wave of goodbye she left the table, leaving the boy behind.

 _Miller Jackson,_ she strolled through the crowded hallways, greeting a few acquaintances and passing friends. _16\. Cadet private first class of JROTC. Younger brother of Tristan Jackson. Stand user. Dog of the Chinese Zodiac Club. Trustworthy, according to monitored Stand user, Joshua Jiu._

Well, she hopes he's correct. The kid doesn't look half bad, but she just wished that her life isn't being handled by someone else for once.


	13. Imagine Dragon - Part 1

Alicia normally has music at 9th period, but the teacher is absent today, which is a rare sight. Mr. Pawn took his work seriously, and she would have enjoyed his class if she wasn't assigned the clarinet. When Mr. Quincy, the principal, passed by the chaotic classroom, he ordered them to go to the second-floor library.

As her disorganized horde of a class finally reached the place, she quickly spotted an empty table by the corner and claimed it before anyone else could. There, she pondered on how to spend the free period. Physics homework, read, or studying.

Her phone buzzed. Maybe she could just pass the time like a teenager of her age.

 **"Hey, I just remembered something"**

An unknown number texted her. Since she had nothing to do at the moment she decided to clear up the confusion.

 **"Who is this?"**

 **"Oh, it's me, Miller"**

She frowned. **"How do you have this number?"**

 **"Josh gave it to me"**

Of course. She was required to give him her number if he had any questions about the FBI's pending job offer. Handing it to random strangers was not what she had in mind.

 **"All right."** She texted back, her fingers zipping through the keys. **"So what do you remember?"**

 **"You know this girl named Anastasia? Think her last name's Pallas, a senior"**

 **"Who doesn't?"**

 **"Josh"**

Good point. **"What about her?"**

 **"Well, I remember seeing my brother talking to her a lot. They meet almost on a weekly basis, talking in the hallways. She might be a part of the Chinese zodiac club"**

Or she could be his girlfriend, but Alicia dismissed the thought as an impossibility. Anastasia Pallas is widely known around the school as a self-proclaimed lesbian, as well as a passionate follower of the modern feminist movement. Tristan Jackson is the last person she expects to hang around with her.

 **"All right."** She texted back. **"I'll keep an eye out for her."**

 **"Be careful.** **It goes without saying, but she's almost certainly a stand user"**

She tried to think of something witty to conclude the conversation, but Miller texted that he's got to go. Alicia proceeded to add him into her contacts afterward.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" Someone dropped their laptop across from her. A living fashion statement of today's expressive youth, her asymmetrical undercut reminded her of an ocean's trench, deep and dark blue. The shaved side of her head was streaked with black, and her ears and lower lip were practically a mass of piercings.

Speaking of the devil. Or rather, texting.

"No, you can sit."

 _Anastasia Pallas. 18. President of the Feminist Club, LGBT Club, Photography Club, and co-founder of the Edison High Writing Program. Senior. Owner of various online blogs and a recently viral website. Had seven girlfriends last year (according to rumors)._

She took out her binder and feigned the impression that she was studying.

 _And, according to the defector Miller Jackson, possibly a Stand user, as well as a member of the Chinese Zodiac Club._

Anastasia, with a brush of her one-sided hair, placed herself down and opened up her laptop.

"A nice day, isn't it?" The senior said, not looking up from her computer. While Alicia doesn't know her personally, Anastasia is something of a keyword for their school. A charismatic individual, her services in her clubs helped to raised over $20,000 last year in total, all donated to helping out the charity (though it was, curiously, exclusively reserved for women in need). Many girls in the school look up to her like some sort of deity, admiring the way she doesn't hesitate when speaking out her opinions. If Bryce Bull-Moose represented the boys of Edison, then she is the pride of the other half.

 _To think one of the most popular girls in the school is part of a group that is behind several murder attempts of the newest celebrity, Joshua Jiu._ She thought _. Tsk tsk, these guys. They are not jealous, are they?_

"Hey, you are Anastasia, right?" Alicia looked up from her notes and put on her trademark smile, warm, but not truthful. "I've been looking at your site, and I have to say, some of your insights are quite intriguing."

"You obviously haven't read the guidelines and the FAQs from my blog posts," The senior replied, clicking away. "Educate yourself first before bothering me with such trivialities."

Tactlessness, check. It seems that some rumors are not completely baseless, not matter how much of a saint someone is believed to be.

"Anastasia," the librarian called, a lean woman in her thirties. "Your teacher came looking for you. She's in 220 if you still need her."

The senior stood up and walked out of the library. Many greeted her on her way out. Alicia looked around. Everyone was busy talking, reading, working, or simply staring at their phones. Could this be her chance?

 _No,_ she stopped herself. It may be a trap. Who leaves their laptop open like that?

But…it's there. Right in front of her. Think of it, all of the possible information she could find. All the dirt about the cryptic Chinese Zodiac Club. Her sense of self-preservation urges her to stop, but her bold and opportunity-seeking detective side promises her that it would be worth it.

And who says she'll have to go through the laptop herself?

With a deep breath, she chose to listen to the grizzled gumshoe. Her hands studied the notes, tracing the explanation for the one complicated equation she doesn't seem to get, but something that only she could see in the library came out of them. A long and thin silver cord, imprinted with what appeared to be a simple shape of a red rabbit's head on its head. It slithered its way to one of the laptop's USB ports and plugged itself inside.

A sudden flow of information streamed through Alicia's mind, and one of which included the admin password.

Using her cord, now a part of the machine, she mentally controlled the inner workings of the laptop keyboard, typing in the password. A few moments later she was in, and the home screen showed itself, an abstract piece of scenery serving as the background. More and more information stored within the laptop flowed through her brain, but none of them signaled any relation to the Club at first glance. Music albums, school work, fan fictions, incomplete blog posts, games, unfinished videos, all irrelevancies to what she was looking for.

What about her social media? Alicia commanded the laptop to click on the browser, Streak, which is universally considered to be the fastest and the most responsive. The school library's Wi-Fi proved to be workable enough, and she was able to get on Anastasia's accounts on several of the mainstream sites in seconds. Controlling multiple tabs at a time, she searched through her profiles, photos, posts, timelines, comments, history (nothing disconcerting, so far), and conversations. None. Not a single one had a slight mention to the Club.

At least it's a good thing that she forgets most of the data flowing through her head when she unplugs her Stand PATD out. Some of the senior's ideologies are disagreeable, to say the least. In one fan fiction about metrosexual elves and bi-polar time traveling vampires, Anastasia's narration blatantly went off ranting about the patriarchal society and how the Holy Bible was to blame right in the middle of a full on lesbian orgy. She had been in some dangerous situations while investigating before, but this is one of the few times she genuinely wished to pull out as soon as possible. And she was going to, if one folder with an unusual name did not stand out amidst the circulating systems of binary codes. _Do Not Enter,_ it was named, a lone, unassuming folder hidden among mazes of her school project files. Her cursor hovered over it, and she debated on whether or not if it's worth her time indulging her natural curiosity.

It the end she decided not to. She dragged her mouse away with the intention to log out. But she couldn't. Something was stopping her.

 _...What?_ She forcibly commanded the laptop to move the cursor, but a small, pixelated creature hugged it tightly, unwilling to let go. With a white and slender body, she originally thought the creature to be a snake, but upon closer inspection it had tiny arms and legs, with two stubs on its head, presumably as horns. A dragon of the Far East. Its aquamarine eyes seemed to blink at her, despite sitting at the other side of the table.

 _Is this some sort of app?_ Abandoning the mouse, she ordered the computer to log out directly with her mind. The start menu was brought up, and the highlighted option scrolled down until it stopped at the _Log out_ option. The pixelated dragon let go out of the mouse and flew towards the menu at an incredible speed. It was able to physically drag out the _Log out_ selection and toss it out to the home screen, landing with a small thud on the taskbar as if it was a real object.

 _What is this?_ Alicia moved the freed cursor to click on the _Log out_ button, now flipped upside down and lying on the bottom of the screen. The dragon got to it first, hugging it with its tiny arms and brandished the mouse away like a weapon. The cursor bounced on the left side of the screen once before falling down lifelessly. There's no choice. She has to shut it off. Using her mental keyboard she brought up the starting menu and highlighted the _Shut down_ selection. Yet once again she was denied of her attempt by the living pixel. It brought up the Streak browser, and the option for her menu suddenly was replaced with ones manipulating the tab.

She unplugged her Stand, stood up, and went for the external power button on the laptop, but a hand stopped her.

"Haven't you been told it's not nice to go through other people's belongings?" Anastasia said, her hair covering one eye. The other studied her menacingly.

Alicia slipped her hand away and retracted her Stand, PATD. Holding onto her wrist, she narrowed her eyes at the controversial senior of the school, now an adversary.


	14. Imagine Dragon - Part 2

"So, my intuition was correct." Anastasia Pallas said, a hand placed over her laptop. The dragon of pixels nudged behind the screen. "You are a Stand user as well. Every day I see you talking to that Joshua Jiu. I don't know what, but you two must be onto something."

"What makes you think we are from Tesla?" She backed away, feeling for the Taser hidden behind her belt. If she tries anything funny, she has the right to retaliate.

"The Club has its own source of intel."

"Your intel must not be very reliable, then."

The senior smiled. Instead of cornering her like she expected her to, she sat in her seat and faced her laptop. Alicia felt a vibration in her pocket.

"As I expected, you have quite the followers on your social media accounts."

The vibrations repeated.

"How would they react, if you were to post these?"

Anastasia tilted her laptop and showed her the display on its screen. Spread across different tabs, her accounts on Glassy, Eg, and FriendZone were logged on, and she has no recollection of ever accessing them while she was searching through the laptop. Alicia took out her phone, the source of the vibrations, and checked that there were comments on her recent posts. Posts that she never made on the sites.

"What is this…?"

Rude remarks, vile slanders, distasteful comments, with no knowledge of any of those actions she supposedly did all these to her friends, lashing at their photos, posts, group chats, blogs, walls, and timelines. A few kids in the library even glared at her from the other tables.

"How did you get into my accounts?"

"Don't underestimate the Club, girl."

The source of her involuntary postings was soon found to be the same thing that prevented from her clicking at the suspicious folder. The pixelated dragon. It flew over to the box for new posts and brought up words with swipes of its hand. False words, the same ones that slandered her friends and publicly denounced them. It tapped the Post button with its digital hands and the new attack on her reputation was sent. The effect was almost immediate. Even the school librarian was looking at her now, studying her with a dubious gaze after a quick look on her phone.

This is bad. Social media is a dangerous place to mess around with. Online communication had never been more vital to today's social life. The tarnishing of one's name could spread like virtual wildfire, setting entire communities aflame. Having over 1000 online friends and followers across her accounts in total, this type of attack is simply disastrous. She has to do something before it gets completely out of hand. Something, to get back at Anastasia.

Fortunately, she stayed cool under the situation, and was able to find a way to get retaliate the cyber offensive.

Shooting her cable Stand out like a grappling hook, it quickly reattached itself to the laptop. The senior becomes expressively alarmed.

"What are you doing?"

"System 32, have you heard of it?"

"That's…"

"Log out of my accounts right now, otherwise say goodbye to your fan fictions."

"You are bluffing, aren't you?"

To show that she wasn't, Alicia deleted a random icon on her home screen.

"My photo…" She glanced at her screen, then at her Stand. "How much do you know?"

She smiled. "Enough to know that you haven't backed them up anywhere. All those months of work going down the drain. Wouldn't it be a little troublesome to do them all over again?"

The dragon stopped its latest post mid-sentence. After a moment of hesitance, looking at her and its master, it proceeded to log out of all of her accounts. Alicia immediately brought up her phone and produced a gasp loud enough for half the library to hear.

"What the—Someone went through my account!" Tapping the virtual keyboard with one hand, she quickly feigned surprise on seeing her recent posts. Those that had been glaring at her raised a few eyebrows, some sympathetic, before going back to what they were doing.

"…Hmph, I like your guts. You'd be my type, if you were a bit shorter." Anastasia casually sat back down, undeterred by the reversal. "Well, I don't suppose you'd want to start a fight here in the library? Although looking by at that Stand of yours, you must be the brains of the operation. You would have your friend after me sooner than I would think."

Operation? What is she talking about? Alicia slowly moved back to her seat, keeping her eyes peeled.

"Tristan almost defeated your friend on Friday, you must have heard."

"Are you still on about me…us being spies from Tesla?" she said. "Because I assure you, we are not."

"I don't expect you talk, of course. Since I've gotten myself into this inept stalemate here, I propose a way for us to settle this…dispute."

"Give me a break. Stalemate? Do you realize the situation you are in?" PATD is still hooked onto her laptop, and no matter how fast her dragon moves, a computer's near-instantaneous commands should never be underestimated. Try something, and she can say goodbye to her laptop. "You and your group would have been arrested with two consecutive attempts of murder."

"Do you truly think the police could stop us?"

"Not the type you are thinking, no. Look, I'll do us all a favor. This was all just a huge misunderstanding. Joshua and I are not from Tesla. Heck, I've been in this school since freshman year. Surely you must have heard of me?"

"Alicia McCall. Who doesn't? Do you see the faces of the boys whenever you pass by the hallways?" Anastasia scoffed. "But that doesn't mean your loyalty still belongs to this school."

There's no use reasoning with her. She's seriously warped in the head. Maybe she should just ask her dad to send in a few guys from the Branch to arrest them for abusing their Stand abilities. That'll save everyone a lot of time.

"Hm, but I suppose there is no use of telling you all this," the senior swayed her hair and reached into her bag.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing!"

"I am showing you the proposal I was going to explain on how to settle this deadlock, before I was rudely interrupted."

"Deadlock my…neck. You—"

PATD moved to delete a random file it found to show that she was serious, but the pixelated dragon had beaten her to it. Her FriendZone account was opened up again, and it hovered over the Post button, its tiny hand ready to tap it.

"You can delete my System 32 all you want, but it'll take a few minutes to hinder my laptop's usability, which is more than enough for Imagine Dragon to whip up some posts across your accounts. Posts that…how should I say this, posts that would surely make people see you in a different light."

She glanced at the post the dragon wrote.

 _The time for revolution has come. This country will be cleansed of its evil. This afternoon, my father and I will carry a suitcase full of C4 charges to the school. Any capitalist pigs who tries to stop us will get shot. Rise up, my brethren, and liberate our families from the clutches of the West._

To make matters worse, the post was tagged with her and her father's friends.

"And that's not all. I could access to your other accounts in seconds. Security is irrelevant to Imagine Dragon. So what would you want me to write up? I'm taking requests, so tell me when you have decided to delete it."

Seeing that she was unable to come up with an answer, Anastasia pulled something out of her bag. She placed it in the middle of the table.

"Are those…cards?"

"Indeed, and with these, we could fairly determine who shall be the victor of this encounter, and who shall be the loser. Of course, we could test the speed of our Stands and see whose can go the fastest. The deterioration rate from the absence of System 32 varies from computer to computer, so you never know."

She shifted to see the laptop screen. The dragon had already pulled up multiple tabs and finished writing more of the dangerous posts. All it takes is a light tap of its hand to ruin her and her friends' lives.

"…All right, fine." There is no other choice. "Tell me what I need to do."

The senior smirked. She unboxed the pack of cards and began shuffling them.

* * *

Stand name: PATD (Panic at the Disco)

User: Alicia McCall

Appearance: A silver cord with a cute little pink bunny design, the default form of its head takes the shape of a Universal Serial Bus, or USB.

Power: **D**

Speed: **C**

Range: **D (When fully uncoiled from her hand, it's true length would be around 6 to 7 meters.)**

Durability: **A**

Precision: **B**

Developmental Potential: **E**

Abilities:

 _Technological Possession_ – By inserting PATD into whatever port a piece of machinery might have, Alicia is able to fully control the technology she "possesses" with her mind and fully understand its contents and purpose. Any previously stored information will flood through her brain. The head of PATD could change its size and shape if required and the USB form is incompatible.

Notes: Alicia's Stand. She's had it ever since a traumatic incident when she was little. Popular, beautiful, and exceptionally intelligent, she is the one thing boys have in mind when stepping through school, according to Josh, who was according to Miller. I'm confident to say that the same goes for a lot of other girls, though. One day I am going ask her to tell me how to perfect those curls. Which brand does she use? How long does she spend every day to maintain them? It's amazing how she can cope with school and work without getting stressed out.


	15. Imagine Dragon - Part 3

"UNO?" Alicia dubiously watched the cards shuffling in Anastasia's hands. "We're actually playing UNO to decide this?"

"I dislike violence, as feminine as that makes me sound. Besides, a clash of wits is more refined than whatever your friend does on a daily basis. UNO is a classic game that requires patience, skill, and the ability to improvise and bluff."

 _A bit of luck as well,_ Alicia thought. "What happens if any one of us loses?"

"The loser shall speak up."

Speak up. If she loses, she'll have to tell her why she was "spying" on them. If she wins, she could make her fess up about the true nature of the Chinese Zodiac Club.

"And if they don't?"

"Then feel free to delete System 32...or have their social life ruined."

"Fair enough." _I could just make up some BS if I lose,_ she didn't add. It's all for nothing. A favorable deal.

"We've had the chance to display our Stands," Anastasia said, separating the cards into piles and stacking them on top of each other in a random fashion. "And it was a total stalemate, so it would be only fair if we test the extent of our own capabilities. Those who rely on their Stand too much will lead to a lost cause in life. It is up to their users to bring out their full potential and keep them in check. I've heard people who had lost control of their Stands, simply because they were pathetic and weak-willed. We, as their master, have to assure our dominance, and in order to do that, we must find ways to improve ourselves with each chance we find."

"Are you done talking, Zen master?" Alicia scoffed. "Because if you are, I'm going to give you a fair warning. I came out on top of the UNO championship in my middle school, and believe me when I say this, but you might be a bit disadvantaged here."

"And I was the city's chess Grandmaster when I was 10, thank you very much. UNO was merely something I picked up after I quit of boredom. It's sweet of you to give me a warning, but I think we are evenly matched here. If you don't mind, I would like to begin now. One versus one format, using the rules traditionally proposed by the founding company. We play until one of us completely discards our hand. Best out of one round."

"Just one?"

"The period is going to end soon, and I have club meetings to attend to, something you surely have heard of, Alicia."

"I don't have time for those anyway." She looked at PATD, still hooked in Anastasia's laptop. The senior gave her own Stand a glance, and the dragon stopped typing its latest string of posts midway, deleting it. A temporary truce.

"Can I trust your shuffling?"

As if answering her, Anastasia tossed the deck of UNO cards. Alicia caught it with a hand, and meticulously rearranged the order of the stack. When she was done she placed it in the middle of the table. "Let's begin. Deal my cards. I'll let you go first."

"As you wish. Let's play without having to shout 'UNO' out loud when we evidently have one card left in our hand, shall we?"

"Agreed."

The match began. Alicia was dealt a Red 8, 7, 5, Green 1, 2, and two Draw Fours. Anastasia placed a Green 2 as the first card of the discard pile. Both of them adopted a neutral and placid expression, to prevent the two from reading each other.

The senior placed down a Green Skip, but since they were the only ones playing, it functions as a free card to put down, allowing her to discard another. But she chose not to and ended her turn.

Alicia put down her Green 1. When it was her turn again, Anastasia decided to draw a card. It's neither a Green or a 1, judging from the voluntary pass.

"UNO is a lot more complex than it appears to be, you know." The senior said. "It's notorious for ruining relations, even if they are healthy. You must remember the news three years ago when a married man murdered his own wife and children for putting down four consecutive Draw Fours on him, slitting their throats with the said cards."

"I still think that was fake." She has no power over non-Stand related cases, and so was unable to find out the truth. The Branch are only allowed to deal with its own problems.

"The point is, sometimes people get so emotionally invested in this card game that it dulls their senses. All they want to do is to fully discard their hand and win," she said as she watched Alicia placed down her Green 2. "Which is what you are doing."

 _Believe me, I know._ She was dealt a favorable hand at the beginning of the game. Rushing down the opponent using half the colors available, with two Draw Fours acting as insurance. A balanced hand if she ever had one.

Anastasia drew and put down a Yellow 1. Not wanting to spend her Draw Fours, Alicia took a card from the draw pile. A Wild.

"Red." She said, tossing it at the discard section. Anastasia drew a card and placed it down as a Red 2.

Following up with a Red 7, the number of cards in her hand is now four. Anastasia's hand, is it really that bad? She has eight cards. Eight. It's too suspicious. A standard UNO deck has one hundred and eight cards, with eight Skips, eight Reverses, eight Draw Twos, and Four Draw Fours. Does she have the remaining two of the Draw Fours, then? If so, she'll have to carefully play around that.

 _Is that even possible, actually?_ Alicia decided it wouldn't hurt to find out. It's been a while since she had played, and her old, competitive mindset is long gone. Besides, Anastasia didn't say they couldn't cheat.

Stuffing her hand in her pocket, she summoned PATD and plugged it into her phone. A quick online search on some professional UNO plays could help. Since she could see her screen through her mind while possessed, Anastasia wouldn't suspect a thing.

But something made her blurt out a gasp.

The senior replied with a knowing smile and passed her turn without doing anything.

"When did you..."

"It's not nice to cheat, you know. As punishment, I'm going to defriend everyone you know."

She wasn't kidding. Imagine Dragon, which somehow was already inside her phone, dug up her FriendZone account and deleted her contacts right before she was able to react. Alicia reset her phone, and the pixelated creature disappeared with the black screen. It would be troublesome to add back her friends again, but at least it's not one of those posts Anastasia threatened to write before. It's better to not take another risk like this.

"You say you don't have time," Alicia said, putting down her Red 5. "But all you have been doing is skipping turns and hoarding your hand."

"I prefer the term 'playing control'."

"This is UNO. You don't 'control' anything."

"There are no monsters or minions to play in UNO, true, and there are not many special effects to alter the state of the game. UNO seems to be a casual game at a first glance, fun in parties and with families. But don't let its appearance fool you. It's precisely because of its casualness that it is complex. People tend to underestimate the depths it could go, the mind games." Said Anastasia, putting down a card that was with her since the first turn. A Red Draw 2.

Finally, a glimpse of her hand. Alicia drew two cards from the pile—a Blue Draw 2 and a Blue 4. As per rule with the draw cards, her turn was skipped. The senior used the card she just got, a Wild, and stated it to be Green.

She considered on using a Draw Four, but that will only increase the size of her opponent's hand, potentially giving her more tools to deter her from winning. Alicia chose to draw. To her luck, it was a Green 6. She proceeded to discard it.

Anastasia went with the Green 9 she found from the pile.

One Red 8, one Blue Draw 2, one Blue 4, and two Draw Fours. Alicia spent well over a minute pondering over her turn. In the end she made the choice to reach for the pile. Another 6, but its Blue this time. Her luck so far seems to be only from top deck draws. This game may not be over as quick as she had thought.

 **CURRENT HAND:**

 ** _Alicia McCall_ \- Five cards: Red 8, Blue 4, Blue Draw 2, and two Draw Fours.**

 ** _Anastasia Pallas_ \- Currently has 6 cards. One Red Draw 2 was used.**

 **← To Be Continued**

* * *

Stand name: Imagine Dragon

User: Anastasia Pallas

Appearance: A tiny, pixelated creature that is only slightly bigger than a computer's cursor, it takes on the form of the white, serpentine dragon from East Asia. I heard Anastasia's family has roots in Greece, but were there dragons like those in their ancient mythologies? It's like Josh's black knight again.

Destructive Power: **E**

Speed: **A**

Range: **Situational (It's generally bound to the screen it's in, but if it is able to get inside a computer with working Internet it has limitless operational range)**

Durability: **C (Can you even harm pixels?)**

Precision: **A**

Developmental Potential: **B**

Abilities:

 _Technological Intrusion_ – Imagine Dragon has the unique ability to enter any machinery that has a screen. From laptops to simple radios, so long the machine has a covered frame that displays projected pictures of any sort, it can freely traverse through it with relatively fast speed.

 _Digital Manipulation_ – Imagine Dragon is also able to interact with the projected displays behind a screen that is otherwise physically impossible for us to touch. I once accidentally clicked a suspicious file online in the school library, and my computer slowed down considerably. When I found the file that was causing the issue it was stubborn enough to resist my delete commands. Luckily Anatasia was nearby, and her Stand literally just kicked it into the Trash Bin on the home screen.

Notes: Anastasia Pallas, the Dragon. While not the direct leader of the Chinese Zodiac Club, she is the one who handles the work backstage and keeps the foundation of the club standing. Charming in a tomboyish sort of way, she tends to go around school and help students in need.

When Alicia first told me that Anastasia liked girls I thought she was joking, but when she called me "cute, but pitiable enough to be called a lonely Mandarin duck" and explained it as the reason why she had bothered to help me with the computer, all of my previous doubts were erased. It was one of the few enlightening moments in my life when everything just clicked.


	16. Imagine Dragon - Part 4

Anastasia spent well over two minutes staring at her. There was a sort of frown on her face that looked as if she was a police officer trying to figure if a witness's crazy story was true.

"It's your turn," Alicia said, knowing that one too well. "Hello?"

"Any chess player that knows what they are doing takes well over fifteen minutes considering their turns," she said, leaning back on her seat. That frown of hers devolved back to her casual attitude. "But that's not what you should be concerned about. I pass my turn, Alicia."

"Fine." She has five cards on her hand, but it shouldn't be too hard to get rid of them if she plays carefully. The current card on top of the pile is a Blue 6, and the Blue 4 on her hand is almost begging to be dropped. But should she? The passive way Anastasia was playing is disconcerting. She's not even reacting to her, outside of that one Draw 2 that may or may not have deterred her win. Maybe she should learn from that way of playing. Resist the urge to drop down that Blue 4, and draw a card from the pile, making her think she doesn't have an answer to that Blue 6.

She drew two consecutive 6's in a row from the last two turns, and they all went well. But for reasons unexplained, the hand that reached to the draw pile began to shake. Sweat dropped from her head, and her breathing became irregular.

"So this is where it begins," she faintly heard Anastasia say something ominous. Why? What made her so nervous like this? Just a moment ago she was her usual composed self. Why is that pile of cards making her feel this way?

 _Calm yourself,_ she thought. But her instincts were screaming at her that something bad is about to happen. She grabbed the first card on the pile and slowly lifted it.

A Red 6.

Alicia wanted to let go of the card, drop it and pretend it was never there, but Anastasia caught her by the arm.

"You drew it. It's yours now."

The third 6. It belonged to her. But what does it mean?

 _It's nothing._ She told herself. All it does is to move from the draw pile to the discard pile. Nothing special. Her hand didn't get thinner in size, but it could have gone worse.

"That is wrong." Anastasia reached for the draw pile. "It's all downhill from here. Your luck had already run out." She got a Wild and declared it to be Green. Having no answers, Alicia drew, but rather miserably. A Blue 8.

Her opponent got a Green 7 next turn.

"No…" Alicia drew but couldn't find anything.

Yellow 7.

"That's…" The draw pile failed her again. Nothing.

A third, Red 7.

"You're cheating!" Before she knew it, she was standing up. All eyes in the library focused at their table, with her as their central attention. Alicia looked at them and slowly sat back down.

"But you shuffled it, didn't you?" Anastasia replied nonchalantly. "Alica McCall. I was wrong about you. You are not the spy. There is nothing in your eyes that even resembled a fabric of motivation to win."

She put down her Red 8. "…What?"

"What keeps you going in this game? I fail to see a flame burning inside of you. Your eyes, they are those that belonged to someone who had nothing to lose. Literally. You must be thinking everything would be fine even if I win, because you really don't know anything about Tesla."

Anastasia pulled out a card that she hoarded since turn one. A Draw Four.

"Fine." She continued. "It was my error. But fate had you to pit against me."

Another Draw 4. She has sixteen cards now in her hand now.

"So who is Joshua Jiu, then?"

Draw 2, Yellow.

"Is he working alone? What is your relation to him?"

Following up was a Green Draw 2.

"…No, I suppose these questions are meaningless now."

She finished it with a Blue Draw 2.

"Let's amp up the stakes, shall we? You may not be a spy, but you still are a Stand user. That means, until we are finished evaluating you, you are still a threat. A threat to the school. How about this, if you lose, you don't have to talk. Not at all. Instead, I am going to punish you for your conformism, your lack of hungering, your absence of a determination, no matter if it's noble, or grim!"

One. Anastasia emptied all of her Draw cards, which was with her since the beginning of the game, and now has just one left before winning. Alicia, on the other hand, carried the burden of twenty-two in her hand. She closed her eyes and placed them down on the table.

"I hate people like you." She heard her say. "You people have the ability to change ultimately for the better, you have the potential to become a star that far outshines the rest of us. And yet you don't do anything about it. All you do is to follow the track that was already laid in front of you. You have no goals in life. You don't try at all. Alicia McCall, you are a weak-willed pathetic being, and I feel sorry for you. Once I put down this last card, I am going to go through your accounts. Your friends will hear of this. I will make you change."

Is this the end? There is no way she can discard twenty-two cards.

But she still has her Draw Fours, saved for this exact moment. "Blue," she said, putting down the notorious Joker of UNO. When her opponent drew, she used it again, the remaining Draw Four. Now Anatasia has nines cards, still far too ahead of her own hand, but now the chances are much better.

"Are they?"

For each of the next eight turns, Anastasia managed to discard something in her hand. The Draw Fours were only delaying the inevitable. Soon she's back to one, while there is still seventeen on her side. A sense of dread slowly enveloped over her. Despair, a feeling she was a stranger to, approached her heart and knocked on its doors. It intends to trespass.

She remembered the day her mother died. It was the day when she got her Stand. Her father called it an accident, but she wasn't sure what happened. Up until that day, she had no ambitions on becoming a detective. But something changed after the disappearance of her mother in her life.

Why did she choose to follow in her footsteps? Is it to enforce justice in society and keep people safe from criminals? She's always told herself that, and never once doubted it.

But…what is this feeling inside of her? Anastasia said she has no ambition, no sense of hunger.

 _No, what am I thinking,_ she shook her head clear. This is not the end yet. A trump card. She still has one. Literally. While she was shuffling before the game started, she remembered the trick her dad likes to show off to her countless times as a kid. A classic double lift. Usually it's a card trick that is only used for poker cards, hiding the identity of the top card by lifting the top two cards of the deck at once. The texture of UNO cards are different, but with the help of her flexible Stand, PATD, she was able to sneak a random card on her first draw, while Anastasia was briefly distracted by someone passing by. It was a Wild.

Picking out the hidden card carefully so that it looked natural from the opposing side, Alicia used the color-changing card and placed it on the discard pile. She decided to go with her lucky color.

"…Yellow."

Anastasia gave her a curious gaze. She reached for the draw pile, her imminent victory denied.

Just then, the bell that signaled the end of 9th period rang. Students left and right stormed out of the exit. A few girls entered came in, and they found Anastasia at a table in the back, playing UNO.

"There you are. Fareeda is going to give her presentation." one of them said. "You shouldn't keep her waiting."

The senior placed her hand down and laid it on the table. Blue 1 and 9.

"Looks like the bell saved you. It'll be a draw, then." She said, packing her laptop. "I wouldn't go through your posts, Alicia, but do realize what you are missing out. Keep the cards." She left with the girls, leaving her alone at the library.

* * *

"Hey, yo, Alicia!" Someone called out her name as she passed through the main entrance. "I'm not late, am I? You said 11th, right?"

She ignored the kid. It was a draw, that UNO match, but why does she feel so unsatisfied?

"Hey, wait up! We still going to the hospital, right?"

"It's just a stupid card game…" she muttered.

"Huh? What did you say?"

"Do not follow me, Miller Jackson, or you will be placed under arrest on an attempt to murder Joshua Jiu." She stomped past him. It was a draw, but she was clearly outmaneuvered. She was only saved because of the timing.

"Hey, I never intended to kill him! I was just going to teach him a lesson. Well, the tree was during the spur of the moment, I admit, but hey, look! I even planted back where it belonged!"

She had nothing to say to him. Miller watched her leave, dumbfounded. He wondered if he did anything wrong.


	17. 「Author's Notice」

**Hello** **my faithful readers, it is I, the Invincible East. I regret to bring the unfortunate news that this project is going to be on a real, indefinite hiatus. I love JoJo, and I don't doubt that many of you who had been staying with me do as well, but through these chapters of this** **fanfic** **I have discovered that the Villain of the Week and/or Shounen format do not work very well with literature as a medium. I'm sure a better writer could pull it off, but personally, I have grown weary of the back-to-back fights every few chapters. It works better visually, not in words. I'm thankful for your continued reading, as well as this learning experience. One day I may feel better and return to this. In the meantime, let's wait for the Part 5 anime announcement instead!**


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